I Wasn't Enough
by JanieEvangeline
Summary: Trust and commitment are not words Willow has ever heard from her family, and she never expects to. When she moves to La Push and meets Seth Clearwater, things change. He wants to be her much-needed sanctuary, but will she let him?
1. Prolouge: La Push

Author's Notes: Yay, my first Twilight fanfiction! I've always loved Seth; he's my favorite werewolf. I've wanted to explore his character more for a while now, and I just had to throw in an OC as I usually do, and viola, this story was born. I hope you'll like it, as I myself am pretty excited about it.  
This story takes place post-Eclipse. Also, I changed Seth's age a little bit because I needed to: in this story, he phased when he was sixteen.  
It's rated Teen for cussing, some violence, and scenes and discussion that may not be appropriate for younger audiences. It will stay Teen throughout the whole story, though, I promise.  
Enjoy! 

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**Prolouge - La Push**

I don't think I'll always remember what happened the day I first met Seth Clearwater, but he will. He tells me now that it was one of the best days of his life, and I feel bad for forgetting the details. But it's okay, he says to me, since he doesn't expect me to remember. And he was just another teenage boy in another stupid town, so why should I?

I was standing outside of our brand new house in La Push, just next to the beach, holding a screaming infant and listening to my mother chat up the moving guy and my sister complain. She (my sister, that is, not my mom) was seventeen at the time and I was fifteen. You'd think that by this age, she would be more mature than myself. But she wasn't. In my opinion. 

"And I'm in my senior year," she wailed for the billionth time, "and she knows that my best friends aren't here and that this is totally going to ruin my life! God, she's just so selfish!"

Honestly, I thought that the both of them were. After every dramatic breakup with every guy she'd dated for no more than a month, my mother, Ciara, claimed that she couldn't take it here anymore and we were off to whatever place she thought up first. I was sick of changing schools all the time, sick of making and keeping friends for a few weeks. But did she care? No, of course not.

My sister, Heather, was just about the stupidest, most stuck-up person I'd ever met. Her unspoken motto was Me, Me, Me, and God, was it annoying. She never gave a second's thought to anyone else. If I was feeling bad, she'd tell me to get over it, wimp. But if she was the one upset, on the other hand, she expected me to sit there and let her bitch on and on and on to me and drag me into a stupid catfight when I didn't listen. It was a given that we, as sisters, would have our sibling rivalry going on, but we really _hated_ each other. Hated. In the movies they always made up in the end and became best friends, but it certainly wasn't the case here. Sometimes, I wanted to believe that things between us would actually be okay. But they never were. And they never would be.

It was like that with a lot of things in my life.

"Heather," I replied once she stopped for a second to take a breath, "just shut up already, okay? Deal with it."

She narrowed her eyes at me and flipped her cinnamon brown hair around. I knew this move; I'd seen it done a million times before. It was the thing she always did before launching into a full-out screamfest.

"Jesus, Willow," she said, voice building. "I was just trying to tell you---"

But I didn't want to hear it. I turned my back on her and walked away, determined to escape from the place I hated so much already. "Come back here!" Heather shrieked after me. "I'm talking to you! God! Where are you going, anyway?"

"To the moon," I replied sarcastically. I could hear her fuming behind me, but I was directing my attention to something else. It was to Ciara, who was smiling and blinking her long eyelashes, which were practically dripping mascara, at the moving guy. She'd be in his bed by 11:00 tonight, I was positive. And then we'd leave again.

The thought made me mad. Really mad.

The five-month-old baby in my arms was still wailing loud enough to drown out any sound around us. I looked down at him as I reached the beach and thought about my stupid mother. It was all because of another one-night stand that my little brother was here, and it was all because of her stupidity that I was the one playing as his mom. Responsibility was not a word in her vocabulary. I'd learned this ages ago.

The beach wasn't sparkling and beautiful like it was supposed to be. Instead, the waters were a hideous, smoky grey, the clouds atop of them dark violet and vicious. A roll of thunder bellowed over me, sounding like a dragon awoken from its sleep by some idiot stabbing it in the eye. La Push and Forks were supposed to be one of the rainiest places in the world. Or so I'd heard. I wasn't looking forward to these frequent thunderstorms, exactly.

The only other people on the beach were a group of really tall guys clustered around the sand a few yards away from me, talking so loudly that I could hear them over the thunder. I turned my back to them and attempted to quiet the baby I was holding, CJ. His real name was Christopher Jude, but nobody called him that because CJ was easier to say. Anyway, Christopher Jude didn't sound so baby-like. CJ responded by crying even louder.

I sighed. I'd checked his diaper, and it didn't need changing. I'd tried to feed him a bottle and promptly gotten it smashed in my face. It could have been the thunder that upset him, but I seriously doubted that, being as he could sleep through an absolutely insane storm soundly. I knew that babies cried a lot, but I didn't like it. "Come on," I said to him softly, "be easy on your big sis. What's wrong? Are you sleepy, CJ?"

I knew that probably was the case since he'd skipped his afternoon nap. Or this meant that he just wasn't happy. Or he didn't like me. "You know," I told CJ, "it's a really tough world out there. And if you just go around not liking people, they won't like you either. And then you'll make life more difficult than it needs to be and sit there as an old man and say, 'Oh, I was so stupid to waste my life like this, wahh,' but you won't be able to do anything about it." It was dumb to tell all of this to a baby who was supposed to cry like this anyway, but I couldn't help myself. I needed to vent to someone. Even if it was a five-month-old.

CJ sobbed so loudly I thought that, with the guys talking nearby and the thunder, that my eardrums would burst. I sighed again. "Okay," I said, "I'm sorry." I sat down on the sand and rocked him back and forth as best as I could. He stopped crying a little bit, but not much.

For what must have been the next half hour, I walked him up and down the beach, avoiding the guys every time; I wasn't in the mood for chit-chat. However, I did talk to CJ a little bit, making up stories about dancing cupcakes and puppies and whatever happy baby shit I could think up. Just as his pale eyelids were closing, the guys on the beach erupted into a huge argument. One of them stormed off and was followed by another. The three guys still there shouted all sorts of profanities after them, and I was suddenly reminded of myself and Heather. So maybe my neighbors also had relationship problems.

I sat down again, thanking God that CJ was finally asleep. I looked up after a shadow passed over us and suddenly found myself surrounded by three...giants. There was no other way to describe it. They were huge. Easily six feet tall, and looking strong enough to make professional wrestlers cry out of fear at the sight of them. Instinctively I backed up slighty, intimidated by their size. All of them had the same dark eyes, same tanned skin, same haircut, though some had it longer than others. Who looked to be the youngest of them - though they all looked at least twenty - had the strangest expression on his face. It was a mixture of shock and...I didn't know. It was so hard to explain. Respect? Awe? I wasn't sure.

The one closest to me laughed for some reason I couldn't figure out. At the exact same time, the other two chuckled quietly under their breaths. "Hello," he said, his voice deep and surprisingly reassuring. "You must have just moved here, right? I'm Quil. Quil Ateara." He held out a huge hand.

"Oh, uh, hi," I said, readjusting CJ so I could shake it. I was surprised that he didn't break my hand right in two. "I'm Willow Davidson. I did just move here. It's nice to meet you."

The one standing right next to him smiled at me as I let go of Quil's hand. "Embry Call," he chirped.

"Hi, Embry."

Embry coughed something under his breath, and the youngest-seeming one, the one with the weird expression, stepped forward shyly, but somehow with determination. He had sandy blonde hair that stuck up all over the place, but still looked nice, I guess. In a way. Quil and Embry exchanged a grin behind his back, and Quil laughed again.

"Seth Clearwater," the blonde said (still with that expression), holding out his hand like Quil. I shook it and he ran his thumb over the back of my hand, seeming to feel the soft skin there. His hand felt warm. Almost too warm.

"I'm Willow," I said again. "Good to meet you."

"Willow," he repeated, saying my name as though it was sacred. He was still holding my hand, and for a wild moment I thought he was going to kiss it. But after a moment, he just dropped his hand, letting it fall loosely to his side.

All of a sudden, their eyes snapped to CJ dozing peacefully against my chest. I could see the question in their eyes as they thought it at the same time: _Is that kid hers?_ I hastily added, "And this is my little brother, CJ. His name is Christopher Jude, actually, but call him CJ. It sounds less stupid."

They all laughed at that, a perfect chorus of three. I smiled, then jumped as thunder crashed overhead. CJ woke up at this and I thought to myself, _Welcome to another four hours of Hell_. He started to cry, and I stood up, feeling as exhausted as he must have.

"Well, it was nice meeting you all," I said for the third time, "but I have to go back to my house now. You know, before my mom has a panic attack over the furniture not being at the perfect angle and stuff."

I dragged my feet up the sandy hill, hearing them yell good-bye and see you around as I went. At least, I could hear Quil and Embry. Not Seth. As I headed up to my house, I could feel a pair of eyes on the back of my head. I turned, and Seth was standing on the beach, smiling at me. Quil and Embry were walking down the beach at an incredible speed, but he wasn't following them.

He waved at me once, and ran off to join his friends.


	2. Chapter One: Seconds of Peace

Author's Notes: Thank you so much! This story might be a little slow-moving at first, but I promise that it will get interesting very quickly. I just always prefer a slow start to my writing over a fast one.  
Here's the next chapter! 

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**Chapter One - Seconds of Peace**

I didn't want to bother with La Push. I knew that we'd be out of here in a matter of weeks, so what was the point of making myself comfortable when we'd be on the road again the second I started liking it here? None at all. The only thing I liked about moving to La Push was that summer vacation had just started a few days ago. It was always harder to move around during school.

I didn't see Seth or Quil again until two days after I'd met them. The time between this was passed by seeing everything else La Push had to offer. It seemed like everyone there, or at least the guys, were _huge_, the top of my head barely scraping the shoulders of some. I wondered if they were all related and had gotten the height from some great ancestor or if it was some kind of mutated plant they'd all eaten. It was so weird.

There was Leah Clearwater and Sue, Seth's sister and mom. Then there was Jared, Paul, Jacob, and Sam Uley, with his fiancee Emily. Emily was kind and a good cook, but half of her face and most of her arm was covered in thick, bright red scars. No matter how hard I tried not to, I couldn't help but cast them a sideways glance whenever she was around. I heard that this was the result of a bear attack, and shuddered at the thought.

Sam acted so dominant. It was like he held a hand of power over all of La Push, and you could tell from the way everyone reacted when he came by. I had to admit that he made me uneasy. But maybe that was just because he was so commanding.

Everyone in La Push moved so strangely. It was hard to explain. Whenever one of the guys felt a certain way, so did everyone else; Paul slumped around angrily one morning and I watched Jared and Embry snap at anyone who dared come by their path. Their expressions mirrored each other at _exactly_ second they changed, and they all got around with the same easy, loping grace. And all though their personalities were extremely different, they all acted so brotherly, so united in their speech and movements.

All of them were so mind-boggling strong. I assumed that they all went to the same workout place, but when I asked Emily about it, she shrugged and said it was simply the way they were. This led me to believe that they were all part of a gang, punching each other in the face and knocking everything and everyone down in their quest to become the toughest guys around. I gave them the nickname The La Push Wannabe Wrestlers, though of course I never called them that to their faces. That would have just sounded stupid.

That afternoon - almost evening, really- I sat in the park reading a book in a rare moment of peace. Sitting on a nearby bench were Quil and Seth, who were talking and shoving potato chips in their mouths at an incredible speed. I'd never noticed how much the Wrestlers ate. I didn't pay any attention to them until Quil shouted over at me, "Hey, Willow, did you drop this?" and held up something.

"Man, stop bothering her! She's just trying to enjoy the afternoon!" said Seth, giving him a light punch on the arm.

"Shut up," replied Quil, punching him back. "I was just asking her if she dropped her pen."

I hadn't been carrying any pens around, so that would be a no. Negative. Nada. "Nope."

And so I went back to my book.

When Quil and Seth talked, they talked loud. Like Ohmigod-they're-gonna-start-an-earthquake loud. It was more like they were across a football field from each other instead of sitting less than a foot apart. Quil was going on and on and on about somebody's car and Seth responded with, "Well, then I guess that's your problem now." Quil punched him again - wrestlers, indeed - and said,

"Man, you're not helping at all! What am I gonna tell her?" His distressed face looked strange on top of his body.

"Tell her that you wrecked her car, duh."

"I didn't wreck her car! That Jeep idiot just ran into me because he had issues and needed to take them out on someone. And he just felt like being stupid. I told you that already!"

"And who says I believed it?"

Quil threw a handful of chips at Seth and they were soon in an all-out food fight. They looked like a pair of idiots, to be honest. Like a bunch of little kids. This food fight turned into more punches and pushing each other off of the bench and smacking each other on the head and all of this crazy stuff. I actually thought that this had turned into a real fight at one point - over a car? - but when they finally stopped, both were smiling and laughing at each other. I just kinda looked at them for a moment, and started reading my book again.

Weirdos.

Either that, or a bunch of show-offs.

Some time passed, and Quil had to leave. As he stood up, he asked Seth if he was still going to Emily and Sam's house for dinner later tonight, and Seth nodded. Then they high-fived and Quil wandered away.

A couple of minutes later, Seth plopped himself down next to me and asked, as though we'd been talking about the subject, "Where'd you move from, anyway, Willow?"

"Morton. Why?"

"Jared was wondering." He hesitated, searching my eyes for something. "Morton. That's far."

"Yeah," I said, and I knew that a rant was coming before I even spoke it, "my mom did that on purpose. She always does that. We'll move somewhere that's four million miles away from where we just were and she'll feel like she 'can finally get out of that hellhole, it was always so miserable to live there' and the next thing you know, we're moving again. And then just as I start getting friends, she says 'Oh no, soandso broke up with me and let's get out of here' and we leave. I'm _really_ tired of it. I don't get the point of bonding with people any more if our friendship will last two weeks."

"I'm really sorry," Seth said. "I mean, about you moving. And your mom's boyfriend...er...boyfriends." He sounded like he really meant it, and for a second I saw the same expression that had been on his face the day I'd first met him flash across his eyes. Then it was gone.

"Oh, I couldn't care less about her boyfriends," I replied, rolling my eyes. "But, yeah, the moving part is a pain in the neck. It's like she doesn't want me to have any friends."

He didn't respond to that, obviously not knowing how to. I didn't blame him. The silence gave me enough time to question why in the world I'd told all of this to someone I barely knew. Now he knew all of my secrets. And he would think I was, in medical terms, "physcologically disturbed." Well, if he thought I had problems, just look at him and his wrestling obsession and gigantic size and blonde hair and asking where people came from like a friggin' stalker -

"Well, even if you do move a lot, I think you need to make friends. Because life really sucks without any friends."

"Yeah, but I wouldn't be able to keep them for very long. Me and long-distance relationships don't really go hand in hand."

"So? Listen, I know that it's tough, but if you don't let yourself make any friends then you'll be a very lonely person, and I know you don't want that. So even if you don't have friends too long, I think you'd prefer if you had them for two weeks instead of never having any. Right?"

Wrong. Wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong. He was _so_ wrong. Maybe it was like that with anyone else, with any normal person. But not me.

"Mmmph," I replied.

And still Seth kept talking. "You know, there's a lot of good people in La Push. I'm sure any of them would hang out with you whenever you asked them to." God, he sounded like a kindergarden teacher. Not to be rude, but honestly, he did. Just like one. "Like Emily. Have you met Emily?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I'm sure you already know that she's really nice, then. You can go over to her house whenever you want and she'll talk to you. I remember one time, I was bored and I went over there. She taught me how to do this magic trick thing. It was pretty cool."

"Yeah," I said again; I'd lost track of the conversation. Seth seemed to notice this: he straightened up and shook his hair out of his eyes.

"Well, anyway, Willow, just know that La Push has always got your back, no matter what." He looked so serious when he said it that any temptation to laugh I'd had vanished.

"Oh. Um." How do you reply to this statement? "That's nice."

Seth just smiled at me like I was being cute - and to him, I might have been, I dunno - and we sat without saying anything for a little while. Evening was starting to settle in, dimming the light all around us. It was warm, but every now and then a light breeze would blow by. It felt good. Really good, and suddenly, just like that, for a moment, I was at peace with the world.

And then I remembered reality and thought of CJ, who was probably awake from his nap by now, a wave of guilt crashing over me. "I gotta go," I told to Seth, breaking the silence and making him jump at the sudden sound of my voice. "My mom told me to be home by now." It was a lie and Seth knew it, but he said nothing about it.

"'Bye," Seth replied as I walked away.

"See ya, Seth."

When I walked through the door, chaos met me, as usual. Heather was laying on the couch and talking on her cellphone, her slightly oversized skirt practically falling off her narrow hips. Ciara was standing in front of the full-body mirror slathering on lipgloss, in a sinfully short red dress and black high heels that made her about a foot taller. Her hair was done up on top of her head and sparkling, golden earrings framing the side of her face. Clothes were scattered all over the floor, obviously possible choices from whenever she'd been struggling on what to wear. From upstairs, I thought I heard CJ crying. Typical.

"Where are you going?" I asked Ciara. She glared at the mirror and me beyond it, for no reason at all as usual, and I glowered back.

"I told you already," she said.

"Well, say it again."

Ciara's eyes critically examined her lips, and she raised one painted finger to smooth the gloss over. "On a date with Greg," she said after a moment.

Greg.

I just stared at her.

She stared right back. "What?"

Who was Greg again? And then I remembered: Greg. Moving Guy. Right. Moving Guy Greg.

"Nothing," I told Ciara. "It's just that that dress looks hideous on you."

She whirled around, giving me a steely glare. I'd always been glad that I hadn't gotten her eyes, instead recieving the ones from my unknown father; hers were a dark blue that many found beautiful but I thought were ugly. My own eyes were a sea green, kind of pretty. I'd gotten her hair, though: dark brown, straighter than a board except for a few somewhat-wavy-but-not-really parts. I'd always plan on cutting it as soon as I had a pair of scissors in my hands. But then I'd forget.

"Don't you dare talk to me that way," Ciara snarled, her default comeback, as she took a step closer to me. Heather rolled her eyes and said loudly,

"GOD, you two."

She left the room then, as she always did when Ciara and I got into an argument, pulling her skirt back up as she went.

"Mmhmm, sure," I said to Ciara, grinning as I leaped up the stairs. She grabbed her purse from the table and crammed her lipgloss in it, swinging it over her shoulder. "Have fun, princess." I winked at her and laughed when she thundered out of the door, slamming it behind her with enough force to make the remote on the coffee table fall onto the floor.

I was lucky, I knew, that our argument hadn't escalated into something worse as they always did. But I didn't really care. I knew that when she'd come back at four in the morning with her hair all messed up and clothes put on backwards, reeking of beer, and that my good mood was short-lived. Then it would be time for the yelling and the accusations and all of that crap.

But for now, I would just enjoy the peace while I could.


	3. Chapter Two: Dinner

Author's Notes: Thanks for reviewing, everyone! Keep them coming!

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**Chapter Two - Dinner**

I woke up the next day to the sound of our doorbell ringing. At first I just stared at the ceiling, mind empty of reaction. Then I slunk out of bed and stumbled my way downstairs.

I paused at the mirror on the way and groaned. I'd been up all night watching - and arguing with - Ciara after she'd come home drunk, as predicted, just to make sure that she didn't fall and hurt herself. I didn't know why. I'd finally fallen asleep at around 10 in the morning, and now it was nearly 12. Whoopee.

Due to this, my skin was much paler than usual and I moved with a slump. My eyes were sleepy and dark bags hung under them. Blegh. What a wonderful way to start the day.

I opened the door looking - and feeling- like The Stoned Teenage Drug Addict from Hell. Sue's bright smile met me.

"Hi, Willow!" she said cheerfully. "How are you doing today?"

Oh, I just feel so awful right now and I've been taking care of my mother all night and I'm exhausted and this all sucks _so_ much, thank you, Sue! And you are?

"I'm okay," I mumbled, my standard lie. "Thanks."

Sue just bounced on the balls of her feet and looked like she was glowing, she was so happy about whatever it was. "Good, good," she beamed, obviously not listening to me at all, mind elsewhere. I could see it in her eyes. "Well, anyway, I was wondering if you had any plans for tonight? Because I - all of us, really - wanted to invite you and your mother and sister to our house for dinner this evening at six o'clock. Of course, if you already have plans or don't want to come, that's fine. But we'd just thought that we would invite you."

I blinked at her.

"Jared and Embry are coming, too."

She said this as though it were supposed to make a difference. Was it? I wasn't sure.

"Uh...That sounds, um, nice, Sue. I'll ask my mom."

I didn't know whether or not I wanted to go. The invitation was appealing, but the type of dinner I was used to was fast food in our raggedy car. The change would be weird.

"That's wonderful!" Sue exclaimed, and the whiteness of her teeth was blinding. Without another word, she zoomed away, leaving me to stare after her and wonder what, exactly, had just happened.

I managed to cram in a few more hours of sleep until I woke up to CJ crying. So did Ciara; she grumpily stomped out of her room and looked around with bloodshot eyes, chapped lips turned downward in a frown. I ignored her as she shouted at me to get her medicine and scooped CJ up from his crib.

The two of us - CJ and I - sat in the kitchen a little while later. I'd let him loose in his playpen while I went to take a much-needed shower and comb my hair out. After a little while of digging through my closet, I'd changed into a short-sleeved green shirt and denim capris. It felt much cooler and more comfortable than sitting around in sweaty pajamas.

CJ was devouring vanilla pudding - he'd seen it in my hand and thrown a fit to get it - straight out of the cup, smearing it all over his face. Watching him eat it, I was suddenly reminded of the dinner Sue had invited me to. I looked at the clock; it was five. If I wanted to go, I still had time.

If I wanted to go.

Well, to be honest, I didn't really have anything else to do, and our refrigerator was bordering on empty. So why not? I'd have to bring CJ, but that wouldn't be a big deal. As long as he didn't erupt into a screaming contest while I was there. I'd just have to cross my fingers that he wouldn't.

CJ had gotten full by now and was making a point to stick his hands in the pudding cup and get it all over the high chair. For a minute I was about to tell him to stop, but then I thought, Well, weren't we all like that as kids? I let him continue, even when Ciara came in and glared at the table hard enough to burn a hole in it.

"You're so silly," I said to CJ now. He looked up at me with his wide, curious eyes, and I put a bit of pudding on my finger and placed it on his nose. He squealed with giggles and reached out for my own face with pudding-covered fingers.

We goofed around for a little while until I decided that I'd have to get cranking if I wanted to get to the Clearwater's house on time and cleaned up the pudding. Ciara, leaning on the counter behind us, pressed a hand to her forehead as I gave CJ a bath and sighed to herself. It was so slow and sad that I looked at her even moreso out of the corner of my eye.

"You okay?" I asked.

"Yeah. I'm just...tired."

I knew the feeling.

"Well, anyway, I'm going over to the Clearwater's house for dinner tonight. See you later." I dressed CJ as fast as I could - the stupid minute hand on the clock seemed to be moving faster by the second - and checked to make sure that no pudding was on my own clothing. There wasn't, so I left on time. But barely.

The first thing I saw when I went into the Clearwater's house was Embry, Seth, and Jared, all gathered around a computer and playing a game with a lot of explosions in it. "Hurry up, Jared, it's about to get you!" Embry practically shouted, nearly hopping up and down on the spot. Jared said something in response that I couldn't hear and 'Game Over' covered the screen. All three of them cussed at the same second.

"Willow!" Sue sang as soon as I stepped in, looking as though she were about to hug me but stopping midway at the sight of CJ. None of the Wrestlers turned around. "It's so good to see you! I'm really glad you could make it. And who's this? He's adorable!"

She said the last word with great force, as though I might be offended if she didn't actually mean it. And then it clicked into place. God, what was _up_with La Push? Everyone assumed CJ was my kid. True, it was easy to assume that from the way he looked just like me and I carried him around with me wherever I went, but honestly...

"He's my little brother, CJ. My mom had to do something tonight, actually, so I had to bring him along," I lied apologetically. Sue nodded, looking relieved. As if it would be a bad thing if CJ was actually mine. But maybe she was just happy I didn't have to go through the troubles of parenting so young.

At that moment, I noticed Leah sitting on a couch nearby. She cleared her throat. "Ahem." I looked over at her to see if it was something with me, but she was staring at Seth.

"Ahem," she repeated.

Sue dragged me into the kitchen. It was a cozy place, with pictures all over the walls and mismatched chairs sitting at a table bigger than our family car. "I'm sure I have a high chair from the kids' baby days," she babbled.

"Oh, no, that's okay, Sue, thanks. He can just sit with me."

"Yeah, but..." Sue trailed off and wandered into the garage. I stood there and looked around the room. There was a picture of Leah on the wall in a swimsuit and sitting in the sand of the beach, looking more like a model than a regular person. Then there was Seth, Paul, and Sam sitting on the steps of some house and laughing, looking carefree as could be. In another picture, a slightly aged man smiled warily at the camera, looking like he'd woken up after a good night's sleep. He had Seth and Leah's eyes, and I guessed that this was Mr. Clearwater. I wondered why he was never around. Maybe he just had a demanding job.

"Dammit, Seth!" shouted Leah from the living room, scaring the crap out of me. Both CJ and I jumped and the sound of something being thrown shortly followed.

"What?!" Seth yelled back, and whatever Leah had thrown fell to the ground. "What do you want, Leah?!"

She hissed something at him in a voice too low for me to hear and there was a loud "Oh." Jared and Embry laughed at him and Seth said, "Shut up." He walked into the kitchen and grinned at me.

"Hey, Willow. Sorry I didn't notice you come in before."

"Oh, it's okay. I don't really care."

Seth sat down in a pink chair and waved a hand around. "This room is pretty stupid-looking, isn't it? I've always thought so."

"No, uh, it's...nice."

He snorted. "Ummph. If you say so."

Sue came in with a clattering sound and a crash. Smiling, she plopped down a high chair in the house, closed the door behind her, and dragged it over to the table. "Found one!" she exclaimed.

"Thank you!"

"It was nothing." She looked at me, and then Seth, and back and forth, and smiled for some odd reason. Then she moved to the stove, stirred something around in a pot, and yelled, "Dinner's ready, everyone!"

There was the sound of a bunch of crashing and a chair squealing, and Jared, Embry, and Leah all crammed themselves in the room at the same second. Leah had her arms crossed over her chest and was scowling at Seth, lower lip sticking out slightly, but Seth did not notice. He was too busy cramming food in his mouth.

All of the Wrestlers were. Embry was already on his second loaf - entire loaf - of bread. I realized that I was just staring at him, mouth wide open, with my fork hovering over my plate. Nobody noticed me; Sue was talking to Leah, CJ was sitting in his high chair and sucking on his thumb, and Embry and Seth were stuffing their faces. Eventually, Seth looked over at me.

"What?" he asked, sounded suddenly scared, like he'd been trying to impress me and had made a huge, embarrassing mistake.

"It's - uh - it's nothing," I stammered. Seth nodded and went back to his food.

"So Willow," he said after a moment, breaking the short period of silence, and Embry laughed. He laughed a lot when Seth was talking to me, I noticed. Seth ignored me and continued on: "What's your favorite band?"

And I thought I was weird. "Ummm. I don't know. I don't really have one. But I do like the Ramones."

"The Ramones? Really? I like them, too. And Embry told me I was the only one."

"Embry, you're stupid," I joked.

"I know I am. That's what you love about me, isn't it?"

"Oh, yeah, totally."

I felt at ease eating dinner at the Clearwater's. The atmosphere, however, was one I'd never felt before yet still recognized - happy, loving, like an actual family who cared for each other lived there. At first I was odd, out of place. But then I got used to it, I guess you could say. This was a nice feeling. I liked this house, this family. A part of me, deep down, yearned to have one like this of my own. I knew it would never happen, however, so I was just wasting my time hoping.

* * *

Later, I looked at the clock and was surprised to see that it was nearly ten. Good God, I'd been here a long time. We were all sitting around the table, food long gone, and talking. I felt full and content, something I couldn't remember experiencing before.

CJ was curled up in my arms, peacefully dozing the night away, and he moved around a little bit when I stood up. Five pairs of eyes followed me. "Where're you going?" Jared asked.

"Home. It's getting late."

I thanked the Clearwaters for having me over and left. The night was hot, but I didn't care. I walked through La Push more awake than I'd thought I'd be, considering I burned up energy like the speed of light no matter how much sleep I got, but when I tripped over the top step and stumbled into the house, I felt exhausted.

It was oddly quiet, and I guessed that Heather and Ciara were out somewhere. CJ was asleep in his crib and I was changing into my pajamas when, from downstairs, the phone rang.


	4. Chapter Three: Phone Calls

Author's Notes: I warn you all that this chapter contains some mild adult discussion. Don't read if this offends you. It's short (and I apologize for that and promise that the next chapter will be much longer), but I made it to show you all more about Ciara and Willow's relationship. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Three - Phone Calls**

I darted down the stairs and picked up the phone. As soon as I heard the voice on the other end of the line, it took everything I had not to slam it back down.

"Heyyy, baby!" Ciara slurred, and somewhere in the background there was a burst of mad laughter. "Can you come pick me up?"

"No."

"But Willow, honey--"

"Where the hell did you go? I came home and you were gone. No, nevermind. You're stuck at a bar somewhere, aren't you? Is Greg there?"

"Yeah, but--" More laughing. "His friend's got the car."

"Idiot."

"He is _not_," objected Ciara, in that whiny six-year-old voice she always got when she was drunk. "Anyway, I'm at this place on Brownings Road."

"That's, like, half an hour away."

"It's called Mia's," she went on, ignoring me. "Okay? Come get me."

"No. I've got CJ. Just walk home yourself. No, wait, forget I said that - just stay there. Stay there and don't ever come back here." I hoped she would, but, of course, quite the opposite happened.

"Willowwww."

"Shut up. I'm not coming to get you." I put the phone down with more force than needed and stormed up the stairs. A second later, it rang again, but I just sank under the covers on my bed and closed my eyes.

The next thing I knew, the damn thing was ringing again. Ready to throw it out of the window, I picked it up and said sharply, "Stop calling me. I'm not going to get you."

"Don't be such a bitch," Ciara snapped. "Come on, Willow, it'll take you twenty minutes at the most."

"And if I don't come get you, will you call all night until I do?"

"Yes."

This was why I hated my mother.

"Fine. But if you pull anything like this again, I'm leaving you there to rot."

A few minutes later, I was pulling out of the driveway with CJ in his carseat in the back. I didn't know how I would be able to cram Greg and Ciara in the front, being that I trusted neither in the back with my baby brother, but I guessed I'd just have to figure it out.

The car was, quite frankly, a pile of crap. It was a surprisingly old Volkswagen Golf, breaking down about every five minutes and covering in mud and scratches from various wrecks. It took about ten minutes to start up and then would stop working the second you reached the end of the street, the most unreliable thing ever. It was the only car in the family, though, and we had to live with it. Even if that meant endless trips to the mechanic and constant problems.

It took me half an hour to get to Brownings Road, and I circled around looking for a place called Mia's for ages. There was no Mia's, I finally figured out, but there was a Molly's. I pulled up there and found Moving Guy Greg and Ciara standing in front, Ciara smoking a cigarette and Greg looking like a freak with his face all red and hair standing up all over the place. I could hear him practically shouting as he talked, something about how they should stay there for a few more hours and (of all things to announce in public, the pervert) go back to his place later if Ciara got bored. This he said by wrapping his arm around her waist suggestively, causing her to giggle. I wanted to throw something at the both of them.

Neither noticed me, even when I honked. Eventually, I rolled down the window of the passenger's seat and called out, "Am I gonna sit here all night or are you guys going to get in the car already?"

Still, they didn't turn around. I got out of the car and went up to them. Finally, Ciara glanced at me with a woozy expression and Greg stared over like he was going to eat me and serve me with soy sauce that night. It was pretty scary. People could get weird when drunk.

"So I came to pick you up. Get in the car already. I don't have all night."

Ciara said that she'd left her purse in the club and went back to get it, lighting a new cigarette on the way. This left Greg and I alone outside. I yanked open the door to the passenger seat and barked at him, "Get in."

Greg didn't move and continued to stare at me, a creepy grin spreading across his face. I stared back, annoyed, and finally pointed to the open door. "Did you hear me, Greg? I said to get in."

"Your name's Willow, isn't it?" he just about yelled. He was so loud, louder than any of the Wrestlers. God.

"No, it's not. It's Theodore Roosevelt. Get in the car right now before I hit you over the head with something."

"Willow. What a pretty name." He slid an arm around my shoulders and said, in a lower voice, "For such a pretty girl."

Freak. Freakfreakfreakfreakfreak. Of all the people I was around, tonight it had to be a pervert.

"Buzz off." I tried to shake his shoulder off but he held me closer, tighter. I stared up at him with wide eyes, wondering if he had gone insane and where the closest cop station was.

"You just don't realize what you've got in front of you, do you, girly? Well, that's okay." He leaned in close to my ear and whispered, getting beer all over my skin, "How would you like to come back to my place tonight?"

"Get your fucking hands off of me." I pushed him away and marched over to the car, wiping my ear off with one hand. Ciara came through the doors that moment, purse in hand and cigarette in mouth. "You can't smoke in the car," I said to her. "CJ's in there."

"'Course I can," she said easily, waving me off.

All patience lost, I reached over, yanked the cigarette out of her mouth, and threw it in the garbage. She raised her eyebrows and scowled.

"Get in the car, Ciara. You sit in the middle." I waited for her to climb in and then pushed Greg into the car beside her. He frowned at me and raised an arm to do whatever, but I slammed the door shut and went around to the other side of the car.

We drove in silence. I asked Greg, though secretly wanting to dump him on the side of the road, "Where do you live?"

"He's coming home with us tonight," said Ciara.

"He is not. Greg, where do you live?"

"I told you that he's coming home with us," repeated Ciara.

"Get out of the damn car, Greg." I stopped at a red light and pointed at the door. He didn't move. "Fine then, be that way," I angrily continued. "But don't blame it on me when you get bashed over the head with a flower pot in the middle of the night. Don't say I didn't warn you. Creep."

Both Greg and Ciara looked as though they wanted to punch me in the face right then. Ciara barked, "Stop being such a fucking _ungrateful_ bitch. You need to learn how to treat adults with respect."

"You need to grow up and start acting like one," I replied.

This continued for the rest of the ride. By the time we reached home, I was seriously considering locking them in the car and throwing it off a cliff with some super strength I didn't own. I stomped up the stairs, put the somehow-still-sleeping CJ in his crib, and attempted to go to sleep myself.

This failed, of course.

"That was completely uncalled for!" Ciara shrieked, throwing open the door to my room. I groaned and put my pillow over my head. "Greg is my boyfriend and you need to be respectful around him."

"Your boyfriend? Is that what he told you? He was trying to bring me back to his house tonight, Ciara. I'm sure by now you know what _that_ means."

"He did not! You're just making that up 'cause you're such a - such an - "

"Attention whore, I know, I know." I sat up and glared at her. "Get out of my room. I'm trying to get some sleep. You know what that word means, right?"

She opened her mouth to make some idiot comeback yet again, but I walked over to the door and slammed it in her face, locking it the second it closed. I was sick of this. The exact same thing had happened the previous night - sans Greg. How ironic.

I shut my eyes, and it took every ounce of self-control I had to keep from smashing anything valuable or shouting or crying or - or _something_.

Thanks alot, Ciara. Thank you so much.

Bitch.

* * *

Author's Notes: Okay okay okay, I know you're tired of all of these notes but I HAD to say something here. When I was writing this chapter, that last line came to me in a burst of sudden inspiration. I still haven't stopped laughing from it.


	5. Chapter Four: Careful

Author's Notes: To Sky and Stars: I was going to put what happened to Heather in this chapter, but I forgot to. She was just out with some of her newer friends.

* * *

**Chapter Four - Careful**

By that Saturday, I knew it was time for me to get a job.

Ciara never starved us or anything like that, but we never had anything in the house. And of course it was up to me to buy everything but food - clothes for CJ and myself, books, school supplies, whatever. Considering that we needed a lot of things besides food, I needed to get income somehow, and fast. Really fast.

The only place I could find that would hire me was a store called Dan's Groceries. I thought that the name of the store was stupid, and Dan himself was stupider, head full of dust and tumbleweeds and stereotypes. He reminded me of Heather.

When I came into Dan's for my interview, the assistant manager immediately grabbed my arm and dragged me off to Dan's office. From two nearby cashiers, Paul and Seth waved at me. I waved back, having had no clue they worked here. Paul pointed at me and shrugged his shoulders, evidently wondering why I was here. I mouthed 'Job' and Seth nodded at no one in particular.

Dan was a round guy with bald spots all over his head and a blindingly green tie on. His office smelled like way too much cologne. He noticed my casual clothes - band t-shirt, scuffed sandals, yellow skirt, and frowned. I just sighed inwardly and thought, _Here we go again. Another person who things he's too good for me._

"So. Your name is Willow, am I mistaken?" He had a severe voice that sounded like a car's tires rumbling over gravel.

"Yes, sir."

"How old are you?"

"Fifteen."

Dan sifted through a bunch of papers on his desk and finally pulled up one. I could see 'Minor Employment' written at the top. He read through it and threw it back down. "Fifteen. Okay. You can be legally hired."

"Yes, sir."

"How much experience do you have at this sort of job, Willow?"

"I worked at Target for five months."

"Hmm." Dan stroked his chin thoughtfully. "You do realize that I can only pay you minimum wage, as you are still a minor."

"Yep, I do."

"And you won't get an attitude with any of the customers, no matter what the circumstance, correct? Because if you do, you'll be out of here in a heartbeat."

At least he was being honest about it. "I won't, sir. I'll treat everyone with as much respect as if they were the governor."

He looked at the clock for what must have been fourty million years. Then he said gruffly, still not looking at me, "You're hired. You start Monday."

"Thank you!" I just about ran out of the office - the cologne was about to burn my nose right off - and smiled all the way to the front door.

"Hey!" shouted Seth from behind me. I turned to face him; a good fifteen people were waiting in line for him, grumpy and impatient, but he couldn't care less. "Did you get the job?"

I gave him the thumbs-up and he grinned. "I start Monday!"

Paul turned around and raised a confused eyebrow at the both of us. "Say what?"

I giggled at him and left.

* * *

Monday came soon, seeing as I was busy taking care of CJ and trying to fight off Heather when she complained about some friend of hers all weekend. The assistant manager was waiting for me again; she brought me over to a register and said, "This is where you work."

The registers had those little things where they aren't seperated one by one, but have two back-to-back doors. The register I was working at was right next to Seth's; he turned around and smiled at me. From another register over, Paul waved.

"Well, whaddaya know? Hi, Willow," said Seth.

"Hey, Seth."

"Did Mrs. P tell you what you need to do?"

I guessed Mrs. P was the assistant manager. "Yeah. I've already worked at grocery stores before, though."

"Oh. Well, if you need any help..."

"...I'll ask you, I know. Thanks."

The next few hours passed with a store's usual madness - customers saying they needed to return stuff when they didn't even have the receipt, kids screaming over candy, wrong prices. By the time the lunch break came, I had a headache that made me feel like my head was going to break open. Seth and I plopped ourselves on a bench outside - Paul had chosen to take his break at another time - and stuffed our faces with junk food.

"How do you like La Push so far?" Seth asked me after a moment.

"It's pretty cool, I guess. Nice scenery."

"Yeah." Seth gazed into the horixon at something I couldn't see, and eventually turned his gaze back to me. "I've always liked it here."

"Well, that's because you've lived here your whole life."

"I know. But...it's just nice. Kind of comforting, I think. Or maybe it's just me."

"It's not."

* * *

I liked Seth. Not in the boyfriend-type way, but as a friend. He was nice and was the first person I could ever remember who actually listened to what I said. I wasn't used to the respect he treated me with and was constantly waiting for him to say something rude or let me down like everyone else. But he never did.

Of course, I was careful stepping into the world of friendship. I already knew that La Push would be forgotten as soon as we moved out (most likely about three weeks from now), smoothed over, as though we'd never been there. I would be upsetting Seth if we became friends and I zoomed out of La Push some weeks later. And even though I wanted to push him away, I just couldn't.

I knew, not only from Ciara but also from Heather, that the only thing boys wanted was to get in your pants. The endless pervert jokes I'd heard over the years could easily stack up into the millions. Never did I hear, however, anything like this from Seth. Ever. But of course he could just be trying to lure me in with the whole 'innocent' mask going on. I felt differently about him than any other boy I'd met, and had hope that he might not pull a Moving Guy Greg - or worse. But of course I was always on the alert for this.

The next week passed quickly. I actually liked work, though maybe only because I had Seth to talk to. We had a lot in common: liked the same music, same type of movies (action so extreme it looked faker than Barbie), same food. We even agreed that the new sofa Quil had was the ugliest thing on the face of the planet.

Our similarities made absolutely no sense at all, considering the fact that our personalities were completely opposite. Seth was the sweetest of the sweet, every girl's dream boyfriend. He was always so cheerful and easygoing, as if he had no care in the world. I, on the other hand, was a physco straight out of Hell, enough so to scare any old lady and have anyone who ever met me talk about me behind my back ("Did you hear what Willow was saying yesterday! God, she's so freaking _weird_!") I slumped around angrily and was generally a bitch to everyone who stood three yards close to me. I made people hate me on purpose just so I wouldn't stomp all over their heart when we moved again. Seth, on the other hand, naturally attracted friends. I didn't understand it.

One afternoon, Seth and I were sitting outside of Dan's as usual and eating our lunch. Paul had finished his seconds later and was going back inside. Seth held up a DVD and said, "I just bought this. Look at it."

The title was Car Crash, splayed all over the top like CJ had painted it with watercolors. A picture of a car wreck and general chaos was in the background, and in the front was a guy looking to the right with a gun in his hand. I took it from Seth and read aloud, "Ninety-three minutes. Rated R."

"They're only good if they're rated R."

"I know it." I handed Seth back the DVD and said, "Sounds like fun."

"Yeah. Do you wanna watch it?"

"How? There's not a DVD player out here," I said stupidly.

Seth laughed at that. "Duh, smarty. I meant at my house. After work."

Well...

"I'd like to, but I have to watch CJ today." Like I did every day of my pathetic life.

"Oh. Well, you can bring him over. Sue would love to watch him for a few hours. She adores babies."

The only thing I had planned for that afternoon was doing the laundry. I'd much rather be at Seth's house watching explosions and gore than that. "Of course."

Seth grinned. "Four o'clock, then."

"It's on."


	6. Chapter Five: Unknown

Author's Notes: I warn you that this chapter contains somewhat graphic descriptions of injuries.

* * *

**Chapter Five - Unknown**

When I came home late that night, it took me a second to notice Heather on the living room couch. Ciara was long gone, probably at some club or another. It was only after I'd put CJ in his crib and gone back downstairs to get some water that I saw Heather sitting there, shaking all over the place and staring at the wall.

Great. Another breakdown, here we go. Brought to you by Heather Is Crazy Inc.

I walked over to her and did a double-take. A huge gash was covering her forehead, blood dripping from her cheeks to her shirt. On the right side of her face, there was a series of large cuts, and her lip was torn open and bleeding.

Heather's wrist seemed to be broken, as she was holding it with her other arm. I frowned at her; scrapes were all over her torso. Her shirt was ripped diagonally and covered in dirt. She looked absolutely horrible.

What the hell?

"Heather?" I asked, but she didn't turn. I waved a hand in front of her misty eyes, and still Heather did not move. "What happened to you?"

No response. Of course I didn't like my sister, but now I was scared. "Heather, can you hear me?"

Nope. Heather wasn't blinking as she continued to stare at the wall. Still staring. And still staring. And still staring.

I jumped about a foot in the air when she suddenly let out a scream and dived into the pillows on the couch, putting a hand over her head. I looked around frantically, expecting to see some physco with a knife or that dude with the hook for a hand you always hear about at camp, but it was just Heather and I sitting at home with CJ upstairs.

"What is it?!" I hopped around like a fool and tried to understand what she was so scared about while Heather lay on the couch and started trembling again. "Heather, what's wrong? What happened? Oh God, oh _God_..."

Blood covered the couch when I dragged her upright. Heather was crying by now, leaving a trail of red all over her cheeks, and I had no clue why. Now I was absolutely terrified. Had she gone insane? Was she hearing unknown things that made her scream like that? I didn't know, and it scared me.

Heather looked at the wall and started to say, putting her hands back over her head and curling into a ball, "I didn't..."

But then she stopped, rocking back and forth with the force of an airplane. "You didn't what?" I asked. "You didn't do what, Heather? Please say something..." I wrung my hands and bit down on my lip so hard it started to bleed.

"He-" she told the wall, crying harder by now, "-he said...he said...I thought...By now...Didn't expect..." Heather talked in mad bursts, stringing words together and making absolutely no sense at all.

I would have tried to press her for more, but Heather closed her eyes and lifted a hand to her forehead while I just stood there. Then she slumped over, unmoving, hand falling loosely to her side.

I couldn't tell if she was breathing or not.

"Heather!" I screamed. "Heather, oh God - oh shit, I don't know-" I frantically closed my hand around her uninjured wrist and felt no pulse. My blood turned cold and the world froze.

I was the one trembling now; I ran to the phone and attempted to dial 911, but got no dial tone. Great, the phone lines were down again.

What could I do, what could I do? I panicked for what seemed like hours before my mind clicked into emergency mode and I flung myself out of the front door, running outside faster than I'd ever done in my life. My feet pounded the dirt as I sped towards the line of houses nearby.

Lights were on in most of them, and I practically broke down the first door I saw with how hard I was knocking on it. Embry came to the door and looked down at me, frowning. "You okay?" he asked.

"No, it's my sister. She's fainted or something and she's hurt really bad and she's not breathing-" _Why_ was I crying? I hated Heather. And yet here I was, standing in front of Embry's house with her blood all over my hands and tears streaming down my face. It made no sense. I hated her, I hated her, I hated her...

If I said this to myself enough times, maybe I'd start to believe it. Because I really did hate her. If she died, then I shouldn't care, right? Right?

Embry zoomed down the street, leaving me to stumble along after him. A few people from nearby houses were standing outside by now, and I thought I heard Seth saying something to me. But I ignored all of it and followed Embry.

By the time I was halfway to the house, Embry was already running back to his car with Heather in his arms. I crammed myself in his car and stuttered, "But my baby brother, he-"

"Sue's got it taken care of. It's okay, Willow," Embry said, giving my shoulder a pat, "it'll be okay. What happened?"

"I don't know. I came home and she was on the couch all beat up and stuff and she wouldn't respond when I said her name. And then she started screaming and said something about some guy saying whatever and she not expecting something and then she fainted." I was shaking like crazy by this point and the stupid tears wouldn't stop. I silently cursed whoever had made humans have to cry when in such situations.

Embry was going way over the speed limit, but I didn't care, didn't care about anything but the sister I kept telling myself I hated. I couldn't help but feel guilty that I hadn't been there when she got attacked or whatever happened. Even though I hated her. I hated her. I hated her.

The hospital was thankfully not too crowded, and they took in Heather immediately, though I had a feeling they would have anyway whether or not a million people were there. This left Embry and I to stand awkwardly by the front desk until we wandered over to the waiting room.

"Where's your mom?" he asked after a minute.

"On a date with her boyfriend," I said, not knowing if this was true or not. I was still crying, but it was more of a sniffle now.

"Do you have her phone number?"

"No. She just broke her phone, actually. A few days ago. So it won't work. I'll just have to wait for her to go home."

Embry gave my shoulder another pat and looked absentmindedly at a potted plant nearby. Then his head snapped up as the door opened and Seth came in. He was yawning, but he plopped down next to me and asked, "So, how's she doing?"

I didn't even bother to ask how he knew what was going on. "I don't know. They just took her in the emergency room." I wiped at my eyes impatiently and sighed.

Seth fished a Kleenex out of his pocket and handed it to me. I nodded gratefully at him and wiped my eyes again. The three of us sat in silence for a little while while I cried as quietly as possible, putting my head in my hands and trying to take calming breaths. This didn't help at all.

"Are you here for Heather Davidson?" a kind voice asked from above me, and I lifted my head out of my hands. A blonde nurse with a clipboard in her hand was smiling at me.

"Yes," I sniffled, straightening myself up. "I'm her sister, Willow."

She nodded gravely. "Well, Willow, I'm afraid that we have some bad news..."

* * *

Author's Notes: What happened to Heather will be explained in the next chapter. I know that this chapter was very unrealistic, considering that Willow hates Heather, but she's not really emotionally strong on the inside (even though she's tough as nails on the outside.) She doesn't like it when anyone in her family falls apart, even if she doesn't like them, because it shakes her ground. Besides, she may or may not secretly not hate Heather on the inside.  
Dun dun dun!  
Thanks for reading! I apologize for the sucky cliffhanger, but it had to be done. Reviews are loved.


	7. Chapter Six: Change

**Chapter Six - Change**

Ciara and I sat across from each other at the kitchen table, having a staring contest. Whoever looks away first loses.

She put her head in her hands and sighed.

Ha! Loser!

"Willow," she said, her voice broken, and all of a sudden I felt a horrible guilt. She looked old against our white walls with her hair in a bun and head in her hands. But I couldn't blame her. This whole thing had been stressful for everyone.

"Ciara," I responded flatly.

Ciara took her head out of her hands and sighed again, at me. What was this supposed to mean? She always sighed at me when I was being difficult. Or at least, that's what she said.

"Why weren't you there?" she asked me.

I wanted to punch her. "What do you mean, why wasn't I there? I don't go to parties, Ciara. You know that. And even if I was, what do you expect me to have done?"

"Something. Anything." Ciara threw up her hands like she'd had it and I scowled, standing up and knocking over the chair (surprisingly on accident) as I did it. I walked out of the house and slammed the door, not caring what she did.

Seth was already waiting outside when I walked up to his house.

"How did you know I was coming?" I questioned.

He shrugged. "Just had this feeling."

"I don't want to see anything gory today," I said to Seth as he went through his collection of DVDs. It was endless, filling up a cabinet in the living room, part of his bedroom, and a small corner in the kitchen (why it was in the kitchen, I had no idea.) Seth nodded; he could understand, after what had happened with Heather.

"Something funny?"

"No."

"Burgular mystery?"

"No."

"Some gushy crap?"

"Hell no."

I could tell Seth was tired of me; I'd been getting on everyone's nerves lately. Nonetheless, he stood up and said, like a gentleman, "Well, is there anything else that would interest you?"

"No. I don't feel like watching movies today. I just want to sit here." I stretched my legs out on the stool that stood in front of his sofa as he sat next to me, practically knocking me off the couch with his hugeness. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but then closed it.

"The doctors said she's going to have to go to therapy for a little while." Seth nodded again.

"That's big," he said.

"No," I said, now pissed at him for no reason at all, "it's not. It's stupid. She shouldn't have to go to therapy. She shouldn't have to do any of this. If I was there, that idiot could have backed off. My sister might not have had to do this crap." I turned away from Seth and tried to hold back the sudden tears, something I'd been doing a lot of lately.

Ever since Heather had come home from her friend's party two nights ago, things had changed. The doctor had announced date rape and apparently, Heather's various injuries came from when she tried to resist. I didn't like to think of this and it had given me plenty of nightmares from which I woke up crying, sheets sticking to my skin.

Given the circumstances, I guessed I was doing okay at work. I smiled at the customers and did my job. Things were going well until I'd burst into tears that afternoon. Seth and Paul had to lead me outside and sit me on the bench, then return inside, watching anxiously through the doors with customers constantly tugging on their shirt sleeves.

While I sat there and freaked out.

* * *

Heather was released from the hospital that evening. Seth and I went to pick her up and I burst into tears all over again at the sight of her; she looked awful, with her eyes screwed up and all of those injuries from that freaking bastard. Heather gave my shoulder a pat, just like Embry, and followed us wordlessly into the car.

"Are either of you hungry?" Seth asked us after a minute. I was busy squeezing my nose with two fingers and trying to stop the crying, but I nodded.

"Yeah," said Heather in a hoarse voice. I looked at her in shock, surprised that she'd spoken, but Seth continued driving as though this was completely normal. Maybe it was, and I was the weird one. "Do you know any good Italian places around here?" she asked. "I'm in the mood for pasta."

"Sure do," said Seth cheerfully, taking a right. "What about you, Willow?"

"Oh, uh. It doesn't matter. Wherever you're going now, I guess."

We went to some place called Frankie's and sat outside with our food. I wasn't used to being at peace with my sister and kept expecting a war to erupt. But it didn't.

Of course it was a rainy day; the wind was blowing and there was a clump of grey clouds above. I couldn't believe I was saying this, but for once in my life I was glad it was going to rain. We needed it, seeing as the endless days had been hot hot hot lately and I thought I was going to melt if I wasn't careful. La Push weather was weird.

We were just paying our waiter when the strangest thing happened. Some kind of howling was coming by a nearby forest, and it was loud, echoing all around us. The waiter clucked his tongue and rolled his eyes. Seth, on the other hand, looked confused for a second, and then a whole explosion of expressions flickered across his face before he turned back to normal and smiled at the waiter.

"Those wolves can be annoying, can't they?" he asked.

"Tell me about it."

"I didn't know that wolves lived around here," I said to Seth as we drove back up to La Push. "Aren't they supposed to live a little more south or something?"

He shook his head. "Nah." Seth must have noticed my expression, because he quickly added, "Don't worry. They stay in the forest and that's it. You don't bother them, they don't bother you. It's simple."

"Oh."

By the time we got to La Push, it was raining pretty hard. Seth let us out in front of our house and we made a mad run for it, getting mud all over ourselves and tripping all over the place. But when we came into the house, we didn't care.

For the first time I could remember, my sister and I were laughing together.

Ciara swept into the room like a ghost and said, to whom I wasn't sure, "Hey, hon." Then she brushed a strand of hair out of Heather's face (I was astounded; this day was getting weirder and weirder) and asked, "How are you?"

"Okay," said Heather, seeming just as surprised as I was.

Ciara nodded seriously and vanished. So much for her actually caring.

Heather went to take a shower, and I traveled upstairs to check on CJ. When I leaned over his crib, he moved his hand a little bit and let out a contented sigh in his sleep. I gave his fingers a kiss and quietly exited the room.

Our shower was constantly out of hot water, so Heather was out of there in a matter of minutes. She was sitting on her bed and combing her hair out when I came into her room. I sat next to her, wanting to say something, but unsure of what, exactly.

"So," I said softly after a minute, "do you want to talk about it?" We hadn't had a chance to talk at all, and neither of us really felt like discussing what had happened around Seth. But now it was just the two of us, limitless.

Heather didn't say anything. Finally, she finished with her hair and sat her comb on the table next to her bed. "No," she replied, wincing a little bit as she moved her broken wrist (now with a cast around it) in a sudden jerk. "But I'm going to have to tomorrow anyway, so it doesn't really matter."

Tomorrow was Heather's first meeting with a physciatrist. I'd totally forgotten about it. I waited for her to continue and hoped this wouldn't be too painful, even though I knew it would be.

"Well," Heather began, "I remember being at the party and having a good time dancing and everything. There was a guy...I don't remember his name...But anyway, he started talking to me and eventually we went outside. I didn't mean to, you know, sleep with him, but apparently, that's what he thought."

She took a deep breath before continuing.

"Then he put me in his car and..." Heather put a hand over her eyes, and after a second, dropped it. "I kept telling him that I didn't want to go so far, but he wouldn't listen. I tried to get him off of me and, well, you can obviously see what came out of that. I only managed to get away after it was over."

We both sat there without saying anything. I could imagine it all happening, as though I was Heather.

_"Hey, there." Some guy smiling at me from behind tinted glasses. "What's your name?"_

_An empty can of beer. "Wow, you're hammered." A chuckle. "You might want some fresh air."_

_Being slammed against the seat and--_

I forced myself to stop thinking about this when I realized how horribly I was trembling. I tried to direct my mind to other things. "Heather," I said, "it's not your fault."

She just shrugged. "I don't know," she replied with a cracked voice, "I feel like it is. I mean, if I was stronger and could fight him off, this would never have happened."

I couldn't believe this. "It's not your fault," I repeated. "How can you expect to be able to beat up a full-grown man? Most people can't, Heather. The only person at fault here is him. Not you."

"Yeah, but-" Heather broke off, and I realized that she was crying. I had made my sister cry. I felt horrible for doing so, but for once in my life, I hadn't meant to.

I put my arm around her and wiped away the tears with a stray pillowcase. I couldn't think of the right thing to say. All I could do was hold her close and be the sister I should have been all along.


	8. Chapter Seven: Time

Author's Notes: Ugh, yeah, I know I suck. I'm sorry. It had to be done...  
Hopefully this chapter will be happier.

* * *

**Chapter Seven - Time**

Time was passing by so fast that all I could do was stumble along after it as it all but ran me over. Before I had time to even breathe, a month had passed since we'd been in La Push. This had to be a record; I watched the calender anxiously and hoped with everything in me that maybe this time we wouldn't move. Of course, I could never be sure, but I could wish.

CJ was now six months old. I couldn't believe that he and I had made it to the yearly halfway mark. It had been exhausting, and one afternoon I thought, as I had to stop eating lunch to go make him stop crying, that I would _never_ have kids. I doubted this was going to happen, as I loved children. Maybe all of this sister-brother bonding had finally rubbed off on me.

Now, just about everyone in La Push was going crazy because Sam and Emily's wedding was a little over three weeks away. I hadn't even known it was so close until Seth told me. I would watch pretty much every girl around go to wedding stores and return with what seemed like a thousand dresses and endless clumps of jewelry. Someone would have a breakdown about every five minutes, but I couldn't blame them: this was absolutely insane.

Sam invited me to come one day when Seth and I were eating ice cream outside of his house. I was amazed; I didn't think that anyone around here liked me enough to invite me to the wedding. Of course I said yes. And just like that, it was one of the most important things I had going; I wouldn't have missed it for the world.

I was also watching Heather like a hawk every morning. This was partly because the physciatrist had asked me to keep an eye on her to make sure she didn't do anything extreme. But the main reason was because both of us were waiting to see whether or not she was going to become a mother. I sincerely hoped not.

One morning, I woke up to the sound of her vomiting in the bathroom. I hyperventilated for about five minutes while she washed her mouth out with water from the sink. The second she was out of there, I pounced on her.

"Heather, do you think that this could mean--?"

"No, it's not."

"But how do you know?" I couldn't believe she was so calm when she hadn't even taken a pregnancy test.

"I think there's a bug going around."

"You can't say that when--"

"Trust me, I can. That, and...well...it's..."

"That time of month?"

"Yeah."

Oh. Well, _that_ would explain things. I spent the rest of the day at work relieved, thankful that Heather - or I - wouldn't have to deal with one of the shrieking babies moms were carrying around.

Some afternoon, I was in a formal wear store myself, digging around for something to wear at the wedding when Quil appeared out of nowhere, scaring the crap out of me when he tapped me on the shoulder and waved. He had two different tuxedos in his hands, one a dark green and the other standard, boring black.

"Hi, Willow," he said in his bellowing voice.

"Hey, Quil. Are you looking for something to wear, too?"

He grinned. "Yeah. Which color do you like better? I can't decide."

"Well, I dunno. I haven't seen you in them. Go try them on."

I looked around for a dress while he wandered into the changing room. I found one that I liked; it was dark purple and went down to my feet. But when I looked at the price tag, I immediately put it back; I didn't have three hundred and fifty bucks to spend.

Quil came out in the boring black one. He looked good in it, but I'd always been the non-traditional type. "Hmm," I said. "Well, I like it, but try on the green one so I can compare them."

There was another dress I found that I didn't like, but thinking it was absolutely ridiculous. It was so sparkly I thought it would blind me, a neon pink with a low neck that nearly dropped down to the waist. Of course it was five hundred dollars. What the _hell_ was up with that? It was a hideous dress. I couldn't imagine anyone paying that much for it.

Eventually, I stumbled across one that I did like and could actually afford. It was light blue and went down to my knees, a bit of a flare at the hem. It looked more like a cocktail party dress than something one would wear at a wedding, but oh, well; I doubted anyone would care. Best of all, when I tried it on, it fit just right. I went to pay for it while Quil showed off the dark green tuxedo.

"That looks better," I said while the cashier handed me my change. "I like it. Get that one."

"Yeah," he replied, looking down on it, "I thought so, too."

We walked outside with our new clothes and headed down the road. "You walked down here?" Quil asked.

"Yeah. I guess you did, too?"

"Uh-huh. You get a lot more excercise. Saves tons of gas money, anyway."

That was part of the reason I'd walked, myself. But for another thing, I'd been a bit nervous to get in cars (whether or not someone was in there with me) after the nightmare with Heather. I didn't want that to happen to me.

We traveled down the road in silence. Finally, when we reached the hill, Quil started to talk:

"So, are you and Seth friends, or am I wrong?"

I shot him a confused look. "Yeah...what did you think we were? Arch enemies?"

"I don't know...but he talks about you a lot."

"Does he really?" This surprised me, even though I thought Quil was trying to April Fool's me when it wasn't even April. I thought that I'd always been just an object in Seth's life, amusing for a second before he moved on to bigger things. I didn't know that he even thought about me when I wasn't around.

"Oh God, like you wouldn't believe. It's always 'Blah blah blah Willow' or 'Willow is so incredibly great blah blah blah'. I think he's in love with you."

"And I think you're exaggerating. Horribly."

"No, I'm not." I gave him a blank stare. "Okay, maybe I am a little bit, but honestly, he never stops talking about you." Quil smiled a bit. "One day, he's going to drive all of us nuts."

"What kind of stuff does he say?"

"You know, that he thinks you're the hottest thing ever and -"

"Shut up," I said, reaching an arm out to smack him on the head. He dodged at the last second and laughed. "You're stupid, Quil."

He pretended to be offended. "Ugh! Well, your hair is ugly."

"Yeah? Your face is hideous. Blindingly so."

We teased each other like that for a little while until I asked again, "Okay, so be serious for a second here. What does Seth really say about me?"

"Why do you care so much?"

"Because I'm a girl. We feed off of gossip."

"You're telling me," Quil said, rolling his eyes. "He just says that you're a really nice person. And that he hopes you don't move, because it would suck if you did."

"What?"

"He said that he hopes you--"

"I know, Quil, I heard you. I'm just surprised that he still remembers me telling him about it." This was the truth. I wondered if he was doing the same thing as I was, which would be crossing his fingers as the month mark passed and biting down on his lip 24/7. I felt bad that I might have made him so anxious over stupid old me. I wasn't a great person. I didn't deserve to be worried over.

By the time we reached the top of the hill, I was huffing and puffing like the wolf in the Three Little Pigs. It had been much, much easier going down than it was coming up. Quil was walking along so easily, like he did this every day (but then again, considering his wrestler-like appearance, he probably did.) I just about fell over by the time I'd taken two more steps.

"Are you okay?" Quil asked, noticing that my legs were about to fall off.

"I don't like hills," I gasped.

"It's good for you. You can never have too much excercise," he replied serenely.

If Quil wasn't a health freak, I didn't know who was.

The first thing I did when I got back into my house was put the dress up, then dart downstairs for a drink of water. Of course there wasn't any clean cups, so I just grabbed a dirty one that seemed the least threatening. I put it back after realizing there was wine in it and just drank water straight out of the sink.

I heard movement from behind me, and was shocked to see Heather standing in the doorway with CJ in her arms. She was holding him awkwardly, like a doll, and he was squirming around uncomfortably. I wanted to laugh at the sight, but then again, I couldn't remember her ever holding a baby before. It was something that needed practice.

"Do you know where his bottles are?" she asked. "I can't find _any_ in this whole damn house."

"Sure." I dug around in a nearby pantry and pulled out a bottle. "There's a few in his room, too. By the mirror."

"Oh, I didn't know that." CJ started to cry, still squirming around, and Heather looked at him as though she were about to have a breakdown, and then back at me, desperate. "How do you take care of this kid? I can't do it. Every time I think he's happy, he starts crying. And then whenever I get him what he wants he throws it at the wall and starts crying even harder."

"That's just how it is," I responded simply, pouring milk in the bottle. I handed it to Heather and she shoved it in CJ's mouth like a plug in a bathtub. He immediately quieted down.

"I don't like babysitting," Heather whispered, as though talking at a normal tone would break the peace.

"Why are you? This is the first time I've ever seen you taking care of CJ. No offence," I added quickly. "Just wondering."

"Well, you're always doing everything and I thought I'd give you a break."

"Thanks." I was honestly touched. This was Heather, former bitch queen and royal fighter. I didn't recognize her by this point. But watching her feed CJ a bottle of milk and looking just as frustrated as I usually was, I felt a strange rush. It was hard to explain, but suddenly I wanted to run up to Heather and burst into tears, hugging her tight.

It was at that moment I realized that I really did love my sister.

* * *

Later that night, I was curled up under my covers, about to go to sleep, when I remembered what Quil had said about Seth earlier. I smiled. Seth was always talking about me? Yeah, right. Quil could be so goofy.

I had to admit, though, that some small part of me wished it were true.

But obviously Quil had made the whole thing up. Obviously. Seth probably didn't give a crap about me, like everyone else on the face of the planet. Why would he? I was just boring, mean old me. Nobody liked me, and I was fine with that. I didn't like them either.

I sincerely hoped that Seth didn't consider me his friend. Whenever we moved again - and I knew we would, I could sense it -, La Push would soon be forgotten. I wasn't important enough to leave someone aching behind me.

Suddenly worried, I fell into a troubled sleep.

* * *

Author's Notes: Oh Godz. Willow really does need to think more positively towards herself, doesn't she? Poor girl. Moving around all over the place and losing your self-confidence can do that to a person.  
Hope you're not bored of this story yet! Hugs and kisses and Godiva chocolate to all of my lovely readers. You guys are awesome!


	9. Chapter Eight: The Calm Before the Storm

**Chapter Eight - The Calm Before the Storm**

One week. Sam and Emily's wedding was one week away.

Things were beyond insane now; Emily and Sue were going crazy, bursting into tears every three seconds. Sam was promptly booted out of his house as it was flooded with endless sheets of paper, clothes, decorations, and general chaos. He and Billy, Jacob's dad, would sit around outside and talk about manly stuff like wrestling or basketball games. Billy was advising Sam on the married life and not to do this or don't do that or Sam, don't be a fool and be careful and blah blah blah. Seth told me all of this while I listened avidly, fascinated, as always, by the relationships in La Push. This was undiscovered territory for me, something I'd never encountered before.

All of the bridesmaids dragged Emily and I to a thousand different dress stores. They asked me endless questions, especially about what the colors should be (why they were asking me and not Emily, I had no idea.) It was a bit difficult to manage, as Emily had gone out of the traditional way and decided on a rosy pink dress. I'd finally suggested a pale yellow color for their dresses and they all went wild, hugging me and saying that I was a genius. Emily grinned and said, "Thank you, Willow. Yellow is perfect!"

Suddenly, I was in charge of a lot of stuff: shoes, flowers, sanity. I was starting to regret the whole yellow ordeal, because now everyone thought I was the savior of them all and I had to do everything. I barely even knew anyone and yet I had to smooth over the craziness. But I was okay with that; shoes and flowers weren't that big of a deal.

Amist all of the insanity, I needed time to sit down, even just for five seconds. I went down to the beach Tuesday evening and put my bare toes in the waves. It felt good on my aching feet, and I sat down in the sand, feeling utterly content.

There was movement further down the beach, and I turned my head to see Seth, Paul, Jared, and Embry sitting in a huddle. This was eerily similiar to my first day in La Push, excluding CJ and Moving Guy Greg. They seemed to be sitting around a pile of sticks, Jared frowning over two stones in his hand that he kept smashing together, and I guessed that they were trying to start a kind of campfire.

Seth was the first one to look up at me when I wandered over there. "Hey," he said.

"Hi. What are you doing?"

"Trying to make a fire so we can roast marshmallows but the stupid thing isn't _working_!" growled Jared, just as a flame appeared and the sticks caught fire. He blinked down at it in surprise, and I had to giggle at his expression.

"I see the light!" exclaimed Embry in a grand voice. Everyone erupted into laughter.

"Paul, go get some more sticks so we can put the marshmallows on them," commanded Jared.

"No."

"What do you mean, 'no'? You're so damn lazy." Jared got up and searched for marshmallow sticks while I sat down next to Seth. There was a huge pile of bags of marshmallows between us, and Paul reached for one when he thought nobody was looking.

"Hey! You little sneak," said Seth, slapping his hand away. Paul raised his eyebrows.

"I wasn't going to eat them," he replied smoothly, "I was just going to open the bag."

"Sure you were," Jared chimed in, returning with a bundle of sticks. He dusted the sand off of them and handed one to each person. Immediately there was a mad rush for marshmallows, people crawling over each other for bags. All of a sudden, Embry was freaking out and people were laughing at him. I soon saw why; his shoe had caught on fire. He took it off in one quick movement and threw it in a nearby puddle. Then he went back to his marshmallows like nothing had happened.

Paul was the first one to burn his. He pulled it out of the fire and gave it a distressed look; the previous puffy white was now a shriveled black. Jared told me, "Whoever burns their marshmallow has to eat it."

"Oh. Well, sometimes they're not too bad if they're just a little toasty," I said, taking a bite out of my own.

"But that's not all," Seth explained. "The first person to smack their hand on the ground is the one who puts _whatever_ they want on the marshmallow. Rocks, sand, shells..."

"Ew! That's totally disgusting!" I said, wrinkling my nose.

"Okay, everyone, on the count of three," said Jared. "One, two...three!"

Three hands slapped onto the sand. "That was definitely Embry," said Seth. Jared nodded.

"Okay, I'm going to keep this as least-disgusting as possible because Willow's here," said Embry. He took the marshmallow from Paul and dragged it through the puddle he'd thrown his shoe into. When he was done with that, he sprinkled an avalanche of sand on it and handed it to Paul.

Paul easily stuck the marshmallow in his mouth and chewed, swallowing a second later like it was no big deal. Then, we all watched as his tanned face turned to a pale green, shimmering in the flames. "I think I'm gonna be sick," he moaned.

Jared, Seth, and Embry laughed as Paul darted up the hill and towards his house, probably aiming for the bathroom. "That idiot," chuckled Jared. "He takes dares way too seriously."

"What's the consequence if you don't eat it?" I asked.

"Nothing, really. You just get laughed at for a little while and that's it," Embry answered.

"I'd much rather be laughed at than have to eat that crap." Seth chortled and gave my back a light pat.

"You're funny," he said.

I shrugged. "Eh, not that much. Sometimes you have to be in this world. Or else you'll be fucked up and nobody will care. Heck, even if you're not funny people will screw you over. That's just how it is."

Suddenly, it was very quiet. I wondered if I'd said the wrong thing or if a 'Kick Me!' sign was taped on my back. Maybe I shouldn't have confessed how life could be; they didn't want to hear it, I was sure. Then Seth raised his right arm and said, "Amen."

"Couldn't agree with you more," Embry countered.

"Truer words have never been spoken," declared Jared.

Now I was embarrassed, and I didn't know why. "Oh, well, thanks," I mumbled. I hated when anyone stared at me, so I looked at the ground. A small crab scattered by, leaving a tiny trail of sand behind it.

By the time Paul came back, he was complaining all over the place. I looked up to see him, and he looked fine. But of course this was Paul. He loved to complain.

We sat around and stuffed our faces with marshmallows for a few hours. The guys wouldn't stop talking (and they thought girls chattered a lot? Phht. We were nothing compared to this group) but in a way, the sound of their loud, deep voices was reassuring. I started to get a bit tired, exhausted from that day's Leah drama, and leaned against Seth.

The next thing I knew, the sunlight was blasting through my bedroom window. I sat up and looked around the room. I could hear someone downstairs banging something around. Probably Ciara.

Who had brought me home? I didn't have the faintest idea of an answer to this question, so I just guessed. Embry? Jared? Seth? (Paul was ruled out, as he was lazier than Ciara, and that was saying something.) Seth was the most likely; I had a feeling. But maybe not.

I looked out of the window. It was too far to tell, but a couple of houses down, I could have sworn that I saw Seth sitting in the front yard.

* * *

Everything was set. A huge frosted white cake sat smack in the middle of a table, surrounded by empty wine glasses that I could just imagine someone crashing into and sending shards of glass flying. White, yellow, light pink, and dark pink flowers hung in bunches atop of wooden end tables, courtesy of myself. The seats were just regular beach chairs, haphazardly arranged at random intervals. I could now see why Emily had demanded a beach wedding; the endless sea stretching towards the sunset was absolutely beautiful.

Heather was at home taking care of CJ, something for which I was thankful. She'd insisted that weddings made her sad and she'd be much happier babysitting CJ, but I seriously doubted this. Whatever floated her boat, though.

Seth, standing next to me in a black suit and white tie, (the exact opposite of Sam's outfit) smiled at me nervously and said, swinging his arms back and forth, "Well, this is it, isn't it? The big day."

"Yeah." I was focused on Leah by this point, standing and talking to Embry at a mile a minute. Emily had asked her to be a bridesmaid, but she politely declined. I thought this was probably because she didn't want to wear a yellow dress. Her own dress was a deep, velvet red, soaking in what was left of the sunlight. She'd even streaked her hair the same color for the ocassion.

"I'm nervous," said Seth uncomfortably, picking at his fingernails. I turned back to him, surprised; I'd never heard anything like this come out of his mouth before.

"About what?" I asked.

"I don't know. It's just...I'm happy for them, but...I don't know. It's hard to explain. I guess I'm getting all emotional over this wedding or something." He grinned even wider. "That sounds pretty stupid, doesn't it?"

"It does not," I replied. "Hell, if I were you, I'd be bawling my eyes out right now. You're doing great, Seth. Just hang in a little while longer."

Sue ran around telling everyone to get in their places, that the wedding was two seconds away, and there was a mad shuffling of movement, people scrambling over each other to get to their spots. Seth gave me another anxious look, grin gone, and I squeezed his hand, smiling at him. He smiled back and, of all things to do, raised my hand to his face to give it a quick kiss. Seth dropped my hand and ran off to the groom's men line while I tried to find a seat. Eventually, I found a spot next to Jared's cousin and sat down.

Everything went silent, and I turned to see Emily smiling a few feet behind me. She looked gorgeous, in that rosy dress with her hair done up and three white roses in her hands. I thought that she might start crying, as her chin was wavering, but she bravely trecked up the aisle to piano music someone's nephew was playing.

Sue burst into tears when they were halfway done with their vows, and I could see Quil looking as though he might do the same; he kept patting everyone around him on the shoulder and taking deep breaths. Finally, as the second "I do" was said and Sam bent down to kiss his wife, there was a riot of clapping and tears and screaming. They broke away after a moment, Sam using one hand to hold Emily's waist.

The other was wiping away his tears.

Everyone made a mad dash for the cake as soon as Sam and Emily had taken the first bites. Seth and I had to cut a piece in half when the rest of the cake was eaten. "You're not crying," I noted.

He grinned and lifted his finger to wipe away an imaginary tear. "Says who?"

"Eat your cake, Seth. Before I smash it in your face."

Then the dances began. Jacob had brought a stereo that Emily requested certain songs on and was cranking it up, probably loud enough for the people on the other side of the sea to hear it. Everyone "Awwww"ed when Sam and Emily swept over to the patch of the beach meant for the dances and started to sway back and forth. When the bride/groom dance was over, everyone ran over there and started to dance. I just stood there kind of awkwardly and pretended to drink out of my empty plastic cup when Seth came over and dragged me to the dance, leaving me to sit the cup on the table and follow.

By now, the music was some sappy crap that everyone was crying over. I had never liked slowdancing much, and apparently, neither did Seth. He twirled me around like a top and we - to put it simply - really got down, bumping into each other and laughing like maniacs as we did some mutated form of the robot. We were disturbing the soft silence, but nobody cared, instead just staring googly-eyed at their lover or giggling at us.

The next song was more upbeat, and Seth and I went crazy, slamdancing and making Quil laugh. He joined us and we started a kind of moshpit. We looked stupid, I knew, but who cared when you were having fun?

By the time the dances were over, I'd wandered over to the buffet table (now wiped clean by hungry La Push residents) and sat by Seth and Leah. I'd already congratulated Sam and Emily about a hundred billion times, and each time they grinned at me and said thank you. This was what everyone else was doing now.

It was a bit dead around where I sat, so I said to Leah, "Nice dress."

She raised her eyebrows a little, like she was surprised I was actually talking to her. She probably was. "Thanks, Willow."

"That was insane," Seth said, and it took me a minute to figure out that he was talking about our dancing. "We need to go to a rock concert someday. We would totally knock down everyone in sight."

"Yeah," I replied, looking at Emily. A few strands of hair had escaped from her updo, and she looked tired, but she was definitely happy as she leaned against Sam's chest and hugged him tight. For some reason I couldn't explain, watching this broke my heart. I guess it was just one of those times when you were so happy, you turned sad. Or something like that.

"You look upset," remarked Seth. I swore that sometimes he could read minds. I turned to him and sighed.

"Yeah," I repeated. "Weddings always make me a little sad."

"You know, I've never understood why women cry at weddings."

"Well, look who's talking! Mr. Teary-Eyed Nervous Guy."

Seth shook his head and smiled. "That's different." Suddenly, his face got serious and solemn, and with the same expression he'd had the first day I met him, he reached out with one hand to tuck some hair behind my ear. He looked so sweet and sad that I wanted to hug him or something.

And, in a move of pure stupidity or a moment of daring, or maybe it was the mild champagne I'd had earlier, I don't know, I did. Seth looked down at me, obviously surprised. Then, carefully, he wrapped his arms around me and hugged me back. We just sat there for a moment, and I felt utterly content, like this was where I was meant to be. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Sue and Leah staring at us, Sue grinning widely, but I ignored them.

We leaned against each other and looked at the horizon. There was only a few rays of sunlight left, but they stretched out like fingers, desperate to touch as much sky as they could before darkness fell. And in each other's arms, we watched the night sweep over us.

* * *

By the time I got home, I was a little tipsy, I'll admit, and giggling like a fool as I stumbled through the door. I was waiting for sounds that showed the other beings in the house had heard me come in. I was even going to tell the first person I saw all about the wedding, whether they wanted to hear it or not. But there was a threatening silence settled over the house, and instantly I sensed that something was wrong.

"Willow, honey," said Ciara from the couch, not looking at me, and immediately I knew what it was. My throat was clogged up as I drifted over to sit next to her. This _couldn't_ be happening again. "We need to talk."

Ciara looked awful, with tears streaming down her face and an almost-empty bottle of beer in her hand. I was getting mad, because I knew what had happened, knew before she said it. "Greg left me. He said that he didn't like commitment."

Well, Ciara didn't like commitment either, so I couldn't see the problem here. But of course, any misunderstanding at all and any relationship Ciara was in was ruined.

"Willow..." she continued, sighing and staring at the floor. I knew what was coming, could count down the seconds in my head.

3...

2...

1...

"We're moving."

Ka-boom!

"I just can't take it here anymore," Ciara continued. This was the same speech she'd given last time. And the time before that. And the time before that. "I feel like I'm rotting away. I need to start over somewhere new. I hope that you can understand that."

This was simply the way Ciara was. I should have expected this. But that didn't stop me from standing up and glaring at her. "No, I don't, actually. I don't understand what your problem is. You barely even know Greg. And yet you think it's okay to yank your kids up from where they've been not even for two months and throw us around somewhere else because of a freaking pervert like him."

"But--"

"Shut up! You don't get it, do you, you don't know what it's like to lose your friends every few weeks--" I turned away from her and frantically tried to wipe away the tears, in vain. I wanted to scream at Ciara. But I was sobbing like a pathetic piece of junk when every barrier I'd ever built inside broke down.

"Willow, doll, you'll get used to it."

"No, I won't! You're trying to make my life miserable, aren't you? Fuck you, Ciara. I hate you!" I ran up the stairs and flew into my room, slamming the door behind me. My bed didn't feel comforting like it was supposed to as I curled into a fetal position and sobbed against my pillow. Why hadn't I seen this coming?

I don't know how much time passed before Ciara came and knocked on my door, which was thankfully locked tight. It may have been mere minutes, but it felt like days. I was half-asleep, eyes partly cracked open. She sounded very far away when she was talking, and all I could catch was "...southern Montana...two days...called moving company..."

My face was feeling very dry and stung when I sat up. The light in my room was on and peirced my eyes; I blinked and listened to Ciara stumble down the hallway and close her door. A moment later, I heard her crying. Another door opened, and soft feet pattered down the hall. "Mom?" asked Heather. There was no response, and Heather went back into her room.

Another night. I already knew what I'd be doing, which was trying to make sure Ciara didn't do anything drastic. There was a bottle of sleeping pills in the kitchen that I'd bought when Heather was in the hospital. I prayed that Ciara hadn't taken any of them.

As I squeezed my eyes against the fresh wave of tears that was coming at the thought of Seth and all of my other friends here, there was a loud _clomp!_ from Ciara's room, probably her crashing into something. When I went into her room, she was sitting on the floor and tears were racing down her cheeks. I closed the door and went back into my own bedroom, breathing in the scent that would be forgotten in a matter of days.

We only had two days before we'd be moving. It was so easy to do, probably because we owned about nothing and Ciara tended to run out of houses with overdue bills and not even care. Because of her, any friendship I'd made with anyone in La Push was soon to come crashing down.

With a sigh, I went to my closet and picked up as many clothes as I could find, digging a suitcase from behind them a second later. It was time to start packing for Montana.

* * *

Author's Notes: I've only got one thing to say:  
I am so sorry. ):


	10. Chapter Nine: Indescribable

Author's Notes: Any of you can feel free to bash me over the head with something right now. I know I'm awful. Let's hope that things work out for the better here.  
(By the way, if you're not sure what emancipation, which is mentioned in this chapter, is, then google it before reading. Basically, it's a thing where you're still a minor but aren't in the custody of your parents or anyone.)  
This chapter is unrealistic as heck and I hate it, but oh, well. I hope you all will like it.

* * *

**Chapter Nine - Indescribable**

_Two years later..._

"So, how'd it go?" Heather asked, voice crackling over the screwed up phone line. I sighed and looked around at the walls of yet another temporary bedroom. This time, though, things were different. Much different.

"Oh, God, it was awful. I told Ciara that I wanted to be emancipated and she was just like, 'That's okay.' And that's all she said about it until today. We went to get it done and everything was okay, but when we got home, she freaked. I mean, she just threw an absolutely insane fit about it. She said that if I thought she wasn't a responsible enough mother, I should leave. And to make a long story short, she's kicked me out. Ciara said that I have to leave the house by morning."

"Oh my God!" Heather inhaled sharply and I shifted the phone around a bit, triple-checking to make sure all of my stuff was packed away in my suitcase. It was, and I ran a finger over my pocket to make sure my money hadn't fallen out. It was still there. "She can't do that! You're only seventeen, Willow!"

"I know that," I growled, "but technically, yes, she can. I'm not in her custody anymore."

"But - but - you have to move in with me! Look, I'll come pick you up tomorrow and--"

I sighed and looked at the clock, blood running cold at the time. I only had twenty minutes to get to the bus station. "Heather, I don't have much time to talk 'cause I'm taking a bus, but I don't want to bother you by me moving in. I just can't do it." This was the truth. No matter how many times Heather said she had enough money to support the both of us, I refused to be another burden in her life. "I'm going back to La Push. Do you remember there? With Seth and Embry and...what's her name...oh, right, Emily?"

"Yeah, I do." Well, of course she would remember La Push. How could you forget where you'd been raped? "And would you bother explaining to me why the hell you're going there?"

"I just really freaking hate it here. It's a long story, but I've got to go now. I have enough money to get there and for a hotel for a little while, so don't worry about me, okay?" This was technically not a lie. If you considered 'For a little while' to be about two nights. "Take care of CJ, will you? I know it's a lot and all of a sudden, but please--"

"I will. I'll go over there right now so I can get him. He can spend the night at my house tonight. Are you really sure you want to do this, Willow?"

"Yes, I'm positive. Good-bye, I love you!" I hung up the phone before she could say anything else and darted down the hallway, dragging my suitcase after me. CJ was sitting on the floor of the kitchen and playing with building blocks. I looked at him with a mixed expression; who knew if I'd ever see him again? But the clock was ticking, and since I would be walking to the station, I really had no time to waste. I just gave him a kiss on the head and ran out of the house at breakneck speed.

I arrived at the bus station just in time, but that was probably because I ran the whole way. My legs were hurting in sharp stabs as I clambered onto the bus and sat in a seat. The cool window felt good against my face as I leaned against it.

In the past two years, not much had changed until today. Ciara was still dramatizing over men and we moved all the time. CJ, now nearly three years old, was still my responsibility. Heather had moved to a small apartment a few months ago and was living with two cats and their four kittens. She had a job as a librarian and loved it. A few years ago, I would have never thought she'd be librarian material. But apparently, she was.

In tenth grade, I'd dropped out of school. I knew that the future of my education was therefore ruined, but I had felt like I had no choice. Really, I hadn't; CJ kept me so busy and I had started to hate high school. If anyone had a problem with it, then they should be damned and get over it. I wasn't going back.

I hadn't forgotten La Push, but my memories were faded. I did, however, remember everyone there and the way they treated me. In my life, we must have moved to a thousand different places, but La Push had always been my favorite. It was the one city where I felt at home, like people actually respected and cared for me.

It was so hard to leave. The day after Ciara had announced that we were moving, I had visited Seth's house with my stomach tumbling all over the place. And I'll admit that I cried while telling him what was happening. He just sat there stony-faced the entire time and never said a word. When I had to leave, I hugged him tight with the tears streaming down my face and he hugged me back; I could have sworn I felt him trembling, like he might start crying himself. Seth had been the first friend I could ever remember having, and even though I'd barely known him, I'd loved him for it. If you could call it that. I barely knew what the word 'Love' meant.

I hadn't seen or talked to him since.

Now that I was seventeen and officially alone, I didn't know what to do. La Push was the first place to come to mind. I knew that I'd have shelter there for about five minutes, but honestly, I did not care. If I had only enough money to have a place to stay for a day or two, then that was my problem. It would have made sense to go somewhere closer and save money, but in my life, nothing made sense. It was mainly about La Push and all that it reminded me of, all that I knew was there. For all I knew, everyone had gotten married and moved away. But I had to try. La Push was the only home I'd ever had, and I missed it terribly. I felt drawn there by some indescribable gravity.

The bus ride lasted a good few hours, and by the time we arrived it was nearly two in the morning. Exhausted, I crawled into a taxi and sleepily asked the driver, "Could you please bring me to whatever hotel's closest to La Push?"

That ride took another hour or so. The driver took me to a hotel smack in between of La Push and Forks, and even though I could tell it was a beautiful place, I was so tired I didn't bother looking around. All I had the energy to do was drag my feet up the stairs and flop onto one of the beds in my room. I kicked off my shoes and settled into a deep sleep. It had been a long, horrible day. I couldn't wait to see the end of it.

* * *

The first challenge I faced waking up was not running back to our house just so I could be there for CJ again. I wanted to scratch myself all over when I thought of him all alone. But Heather would take care of him, I knew. And anyway, I couldn't stay. As I was legally no longer in Ciara's custody, she could take the case to court if I insisted on living in the house and win. Besides, if I took CJ with me, I'd be filed as a kidnapper, and I certainly didn't want that.

I took a shower and got dressed slowly. I wasn't sure why, but now that I was actually here, I was nervous to see La Push again. I'd slept late; it was already nearly one in the afternoon by the time I finished combing my hair and was ready to go.

Walking up the hill to La Push, I was suddenly reminded of doing the same thing with Quil all that time ago. I'd forgotten why we had been doing this, but the memory made me smile. That was the day Quil had told me that Seth talked about me all the time. I still had yet to know if this was the truth.

La Push looked more or less the same as my memories revealed. The houses and gardens all looked the same, as did the road and the beach. The _only_ thing that might have changed was that a few homes seemed to be repainted, but other than that, it was the same old La Push.

I hadn't realized how beautiful it really was until now.

I passed by a familiar house, and jumped a little when I saw the people in front of it. Two identical little girls who seemed to be a bit younger than CJ were running around the yard and playing tag. Sitting on a nearby bench were Sam and Emily. Emily was in Sam's lap and leaning against his chest, her eyes closed. It occured to me that the girls running around in front of them probably were their daughters, and suddenly I felt awful that I'd missed so much. Maybe things around La Push had changed more than I'd thought.

Neither of them noticed me until I was already walking up the road. Sam must have seen me out of the corner of his eye, because he suddenly looked at me. For a second he frowned, then a huge grin stretched across his face. "Willow!" he exclaimed.

Emily opened her eyes and turned around, blinking a bit. "W-Willow? Is that you?"

"Yeah, I'm--"

They stood up at the same moment and ran over to me, and suddenly I found myself being hugged by the both of them. I hesitantly hugged them back. I'd had no idea that they liked me so much, and was surprised that they remembered who I was. I felt touched that they did, though; anywhere else I'd ever lived, I was sure that by a week after my departure, I would long be forgotten.

They eventually let me go and started asking a million questions.

"What are you doing here?" asked Sam. "Not that I'm not glad you're back, but--"

"Are you moving back? Oh, that would be so _wonderful_!" Emily squealed.

"God, it's been so long, what--?"

"Where's your mother? And what about your--"

"Are you just visiting? How long--"

I held up my hands, and both of them stopped talking abruptly. "It might take a little while to explain..." I began. They looked at me with wide, curious eyes, and suddenly I knew that if I could tell someone anything, it would be them. "My mom kicked me out. And yes, she can legally do that since I was emancipated."

"Oh, my!" Emily gasped, putting a hand over her mouth. "That's awful!"

"I can't believe it," said Sam flatly, raising his eyebrows at me. "I just can't. How is this possible? She can't kick you out. What made her do that?"

"She was saying that if I thought she wasn't a responsible enough mother, then I should take care of myself and see how it was. And then what happened was that--"

But I was distracted as someone dashed down the road towards us. I knew who it was, even before I turned to look at them. Seth took me in his arms and hugged me tight before either of us could say anything.

He looked exactly the same as I remembered him. He even smelled the same, like wood and soil. It was funny how I'd never noticed this before, but now, it couldn't stick out more. The only differences were that he might have been taller, if that was even possible, and the light gray shadows under his eyes, like he hadn't gotten a good night's sleep in a long time. "Willow, you're back! You're actually back!" Seth sang, and I looked up at him and smiled.

"Yes, I am."

"But what's this I hear about you being emancipated and kicked out, missy?" His voice was stern, but I could tell that he was just messing around.

"It's a really long story," I replied.

"We've got all day long," Seth said simply. "Unless you have plans...?"

"I don't. But like I said, it's a very long story." It was then that I realized our arms were still wrapped around each other. I dropped mine to my sides, but Seth kept his hands on my shoulders, looking like he was just so happy. I couldn't blame him; I felt the same way.

Quil and Embry were jogging down the road with the biggest smiles on their faces. I'd never been anywhere where people had been so happy to see me, and it was weird. I loved it, though. This was the reason I'd come to La Push. It was my home.

"Well," said Seth, "tell it, then."

* * *

Author's Notes: Well DANG, she didn't stay away very long, did she? Like I said. UNREALISTIC with a capital U, N, R, E, A, L, I, S, T, I, and C. But hopefully all of you liked this chapter.


	11. Chapter Ten: Maybe Not

Author's Notes: Oh my gosh! I got TEN reviews in one day for that last chapter! Ten! Eeee! Imagine my surprise when I got home from school and found that waiting in my inbox.  
Thank you SO so so so so much for reviewing, everyone! (And now I sound like a loser for getting excited over ten reviews. Well)  
This chapter might seem a little confusing, so I put an explanation at the end of it. If you're still a little puzzled, though, feel free to send me a message or ask in your review (hint, hint) about it.  
Again, thanks for all of the reviews!  
And one thing: the musical Guys and Dolls (which is in this chapter) is the best thing ever. I love it. I think you would, too.

* * *

**Chapter Ten - Maybe Not**

I opened my eyes to a very bright light. At first I was confused, not able to remember how I'd gotten here, but then something heavy pounced at the end of my bed and I had no time to think about it.

"Happy birthday!" Seth shouted, grinning at me.

I blinked at him. Birthday? What? It wasn't my birthday. Last night, I'd gone back to La Push and it hadn't been the day before my birthday. It made no sense at all.

"What?" I asked sleepily.

"It's your birthday and we're gonna have a huge party, remember? Oh, it's gonna be so awesome with--"

"But it's not my birthday."

Seth looked surprised. "Of course it is! Look at the calender, it's September the twenty-ninth. You're sixteen."

"Really?" I did not know that.

He looked like he was going to laugh. "You actually forgot about your birthday? Wow. Just wow."

"I had a confusing dream last night, so shut up." I sat up and rubbed my left eye with my palm. Slowly, things were starting to come back to me and make more sense. Everything past Emily and Sam's wedding hadn't happened...or had it?

"When did I move here?" I asked Seth.

"A couple of months ago...June."

So I'd been here for about four months. But hadn't I moved out in July or August or something? I was puzzled. Then I remembered that no, that had all been in my dream. I was still in La Push and staying here.

Or was I?

My head was starting to hurt.

"Where's my mom?"

"I dunno," Seth replied, shrugging. "She wanted to move. And you said no and persuaded her to let you be emancipated. And then she just left...you said you don't know where she went but don't care. And you, your sister, and your little brother still live in your house here. But you spent the night here - at my house, remember? This is my house, Willow, if you're not recognizing the place - for your birthday today."

I gazed at him with blank eyes.

"And you still work at the grocery store and Heather's a librarian. You both pitch in for the bills and stuff. You insisted on helping pay."

...Right.

"What kind of dream did you have, anyway? Or did you get hit over the head with a baseball bat during the night?"

"No, I just...Sam and Emily got married a month ago, didn't they?"

"Yeah."

What a strange dream. In reality, I'd lived in La Push - and known Seth - for four months. And now I lived with Heather and CJ in the house we'd first moved into. Technically, I was in no one's custody...

I hoped I had all of this straightened out.

"Anyway, what're we going to do today?" I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up. So did Seth, and instantly his massive size filled the room. God, he was so huge. How in the world did he get so tall? I asked myself this every day and still had yet to get an answer.

"We've got a huge day planned for today, like I was telling you last night. We're going to that musical downtown that you've begged me for forever to see...Guys and Dolls, I think it's called...Then to the museum with all the science crap they opened yesterday...we'll eat lunch at Frankie's, go to the movie theatre, and come back here and have a cook-off or whatever you called it."

I remembered the cook-off. What it actually was was a competition who could go the longest without burning a marshmallow in the campfire and generally a big get-together where people brought and pigged out on food. It was the one thing that had ever existed in La Push that had been my idea.

"Let's get it started, then!" I said enthusiastically, attempting to march out of the room and tripping over a pile of clothes instead. Seth caught me and shook his head.

"Sometimes, you're too entergetic for your own good," he replied.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

I guessed that Leah was still sleeping, as Sue was the only one waiting in the kitchen when we arrived downstairs. There was a cup of coffee sitting on the table that she was ignoring; she was busy trying to cram something in the closet. The second we walked in, she shut it and turned around, one hand still on the doorknob.

"Hi, you two!" she breathed. To me she said, "Happy birthday!"

"Thanks," I said slowly, grinning at her. I had a feeling that the thing in the closet might have been my birthday present. I'd seen this done a million times in cartoons. I couldn't remember ever getting much for my birthday, except a cheap card one year from my great-Aunt Josie. I was surprised that Sue might have gotten me anything at all.

"I'm sorry that there's not much to eat," she said, waving a hand at the pantry. Looking at what lay behind its open doors, I thought that there was enough food to last a good few years. But then again, Sue was probably used to everyone in La Push eating a ton every day. "I did cook pancakes, though," Sue added.

"I love pancakes. They look delicious, Sue." Seth and I sat at the table and started piling the pancakes onto our plates. Seth grabbed about fifteen while I got five. I just stared while he shoved them into his mouth at a crazy speed. Eventually, I turned back to my own pancakes.

"So...your sweet sixteen!" Sue exclaimed, squeezing my shoulders as she passed by. She seemed so happy about the whole thing. I'd never really cared about my birthday, because it was just another day when you got older. It wasn't important. "I guess you're getting your driver's license today, aren't you?"

"Yeah," I said, even though it didn't mean anything right now, as Heather and I didn't have a car.

"Mom," snapped Seth in a suddenly annoyed voice, and Sue and I turned to look at him. "Please."

"What? I was just asking Willow about her birthday."

"Yeah, but - it's just that - you -" Seth was having trouble, clearly, getting out his thoughts. For some reason he kept rolling and unrolling his hands into fists, and occassionally he would close his eyes and open them a little while later. He looked upset over something I couldn't understand, and seemed to be shaking.

Sue went over to him and put a hand on his shoulder, leaning down to whisper something in his ear just as Leah stomped in, looking mad. She plopped herself down on a chair and ignored the plate of pancakes in the middle of the table, glaring at her feet. Meanwhile, all I could catch of Sue and Seth's conversation was "Who?", "Paul", and "Do you know...?" something something. I had no earthly idea of what they were talking about.

"This day is the worst," grumbled Leah. "I hate Saturday now. I wish it would go away."

That surprised me. "I don't think I've ever heard anyone say that they hate Saturday," I said, as I was the only one listening to her.

"Well, I do. Some people are just such fu--"

"Anyway, Willow, what are your plans for today?" asked Sue brightly, leaning away from Seth.

"Well...we're about to go see Guys and Dolls...then go to the museum they opened the other day, eat lunch and then the movies...And have a, as Seth calls it, 'cook-off' tonight. It's more like a big party-type thing on the beach."

"That sounds great! You'll love Guys and Dolls. I saw it a few days ago, and it's wonderful. Though, I must tell you..." She gave Seth's back a pat as she said it, "...that you'll have to wait until tonight at the cook-off to open your presents. The suspense is always better."

"Well, duh, Mom," replied Seth, rolling his eyes. "You didn't have to tell her that. I said she'll open my presents tonight yesterday. She already knows."

"Don't talk to Mom that way!" barked Leah.

"Like you talk to her any better," snapped Seth.

"You shut up, jerk."

"Look who's talking, She Who Won't Shut Her Mouth About--"

"Both of you need to be quiet," scolded Sue. "Now, it's Willow's birthday today, and..."

I didn't hear Leah's snappy response, as Seth had turned his head and was now talking to me. "You should probably get ready for Guys and Dolls, since we don't have much time." I looked at the clock and saw that he was right.

I quickly got dressed and brushed my hair out. By the time I walked outside, Seth was already in the car, engine idling. I climbed in and we drove in an awkward silence after everything that had happened in the kitchen.

"So," began Seth, but that was all he said. He reached for the radio dial and turned it up, flooding the car with some rap song.

"Yeah," I said blankly.

"Sorry about this morning," he apologized, as if I was the one he'd been arguing with.

"It's okay. I -well, used to, I guess- fight with Heather and my mom all the time. It's not a big deal." Seth still looked a bit disturbed, so I added, "Really, Seth, I don't care. I'm used to it."

"Well, I don't want you to think that my family hates each other. Because we don't." I didn't know why he was acting so defensive; I'd never stated such things.

"I don't think anything like that, Seth." And speaking of family... "Where's your dad, anyway? I never see him around." I didn't mean to just blurt it out; it was an accident.

Seth's face remained straight as he stared at the road. "He doesn't live with us."

"Oh. I'm sorry." Hopefully, it hadn't been a very messy divorce. If that was what it had been.

"It's fine."

I had a feeling that the atmosphere had shifted into a somewhat uncomfortable one, and I couldn't figure out why. Maybe I shouldn't have asked him about his dad. Or maybe he was just having a bad day.

I hoped I wasn't the one causing it.

* * *

Sometime later, Seth and I were at Frankie's and waiting for our waiter to give us our check. I was just so happy; Guys and Dolls had been fabulous, and I'd loved the museum. But best of all, a brand-new driver's license was sitting in my wallet. I was finally starting to feel like I was actually turning sixteen.

"This day," I declared, "has been the greatest."

Seth chuckled. "Yeah, it's been pretty cool." Then he looked around. "You know, I've always wondered why they keep Italian restraunts so dark."

"So that you won't see them lurking in the shadows, ready to pounce on you and shove a dirty rag down your throat," I replied easily.

"You are so strange, Willow."

"Well, actually, it's probably supposed to be all romantic, or whatever. You know, since Italy is all lovey-dovey."

Seth did not have time to respond to this, as just then the waiter swept by and dropped the check on our table. "I hope you two have enjoyed it here," he said happily, beaming, and I realized that this was the same guy who had served us last time, after we were bringing Heather home from the hospital.

"Oh, yeah, it's been great. Thanks." Seth rummaged around in his pockets, and suddenly I knew what he was about to do.

"Seth, I want to pay--"

"No. It's your birthday, and everyone pays for your stuff on your birthday."

"But--"

Seth put a finger to his lips and shook his head. "Be quiet." The waiter came by again, and we stood up to leave.

There came a chorus of, "Thank you, and come back soon!" from employees as we left. On a little table by the door, there was a bowl of peppermints. Seth took a handful and stuffed them in his pocket, and I laughed at him as I got into the car - the driver's seat, now.

"You're only supposed to take one," I said.

"But where's the fun in that?"

It was my first time driving with a license, and needless to say, it felt weird. Seth directed me around, even though I knew the general directions in La Push. Both of us nearly had heart failure when some idiot in an SUV swerved into the lane all of a sudden and nearly ran into us. Seth cussed at him under his breath. This was just Seth for you; he never really got too mad.

"Remind me why we're going back up to your house again?" I asked when we arrived there.

"A few people wanted to come with us to the movies." He gave me a sideways look. "I hope that's okay with you."

A few people turned into several. The thing about La Push was that wherever you went, everyone else trailed along behind you. By the time we were all ready to go in Jared's car, Paul, a few of his friends, Jared's girlfriend (along with Jared himself, of course) and somebody's cousin had joined us. It was so packed that we had to cram into two cars; Jared's and Paul's.

"Hi," said Jared's girlfriend as we drove to the movie theatre, turning to look at me. She was beautiful in a way that showed you she didn't try to be. "I'm Kim. Happy birthday."

"Thanks, Kim," I said, smiling, as I shook her outstretched hand. "I'm Willow."

"I know." She smiled back at me. "Seth told me so."

Well, wasn't that just lovely.

Going to the movies with so many people was crazy. They fought over food and punched each other in the arm and talked with their mouths full and everything you could think of. Embry slapped Jared while one of Paul's friends stole a few dollars out of his pocket and Seth dropped a huge cup of soda, causing a waterfall of Dr. Pepper to spill all over the floor. I felt like I'd already gone nuts by the time we actually arrived in the room, and things just got crazier.

Some annoyed old man tapped Seth on the shoulder and he turned around whiplash-style, hitting Embry, who was on the other side of him, with his shoulder along the way. "Yes?" Seth asked as the previews flew up on the screen.

"Could you stop sitting on your feet, laddie? I can't see."

"But I'm not sitting on my feet."

"Well, move over."

Seth moved to the next seat, and the man was still complaining. "I can't see the screen," he grumbled.

"I'm sorry, but I can't do anything about it."

The old man frowned. I said quietly to Seth, "Just drop it."

"But if he's gonna annoy me like this the whole time..." he whispered back.

"You don't need to be so rude about it," snapped the man.

"I was not being rude."

"And there you go again, talking back to an adult. You teenagers these days are not polite in the least! When I was your age, we treated our seniors with respect like they were the good Lord Himself."

Seth rolled his eyes. "Then you should move. It's not my problem if you're too short to see the screen. Get over it and stop whining."

"Good God, Seth," I groaned.

"And you," said the man, turning to me and pointing one bony finger, "do not need to tell a man what to do. Women in my days were not brainless enough to do such things. They kept their mouths shut and did housework. They don't need to be here. They rightfully belong in the kitchen. You should be ashamed of yourself, missy."

"Excuse me?" I replied, offended.

Embry grabbed my sleeve and pulled me to the side. "All of you need to shut up," he told me. "Just ignore him, Willow. He doesn't know what he's saying."

Well, Embry had a point there, but I was still mad. "C'mon, it's your birthday," he added. "There's no reason to be upset on your special day."

I could see what he meant. I put a hand on the side of Seth's face and turned it to the screen, interrupting whatever argument they were in now. "Stop it. Watch the movie. It's what we came here for."

Seth ignored the man and did as I said, focusing his attention on the movie. Eventually, the old man got up and left.

Even without him, it was hard to focus on the movie. Jared and Kim were kissing passionately in front of us. Paul's friends cracked dirty jokes while Paul pretended to be grossed out (yeah, right. Pervert.) Quil upturned a bucket of popcorn once it was bordering on empty and poured it all over me, claiming, when I glared at him, "People always play pranks on the birthday guy or girl. It's tradition." And Seth, who was the only one watching the movie, kept gasping, sighing, or laughing loudly at all the right spots and was constanly commenting on the terrible acting. I didn't know how the people around us knew what was going on in the movie with so many distractions.

Eventually, it was over, and everyone stepped outside into the soon-to-be sunset. Quil and the cousin (whose name was Jeremy, as I'd learned) said they needed to go to the bathroom and stayed inside. Seth said to me cheerfully while we waited for them to come back, "You'll get to open your presents in a little bit."

"Oh, right." I'd forgotten about that.

"I - well, all of the guys and I - got you something really special. It's pretty cool."

"Really?" I wondered what on Earth it could be. Nothing came to mind. "Thanks."

"Yeah. I think you'll like it."

I couldn't think of a reply to that, so I just stood there and swung my arms back and forth. After a little while, I noticed that Seth was looking at me, so I turned to him. "What?" I asked. "Is there something on my face?"

In the cheesy movies, the guys always said, 'No, honey, it's just that you're beautiful.' But of course, this was not a cheesy movie, and anyway, any sentence directed at me with the words 'honey' or 'beautiful' in it made no sense at all. "Yeah, right here..." Seth traced a spot over his lip to show me where it was. "Some candy or something."

I wiped it off and looked up at the sky. As I watched, a group of billowing clouds smothered the sun in a quick gulp. But the sun still shone through, making the clouds orange and pink. It was lovely, and I turned my head to Seth, who was also watching the sky, to tell him so.

But then the strangest thing happened. Seth turned to me, and for a second we just stood there and looked at each other. Then he reached a hand out and tenderly brushed some hair from my face. I had vague memories of him doing this before, and suddenly I remembered from when: Sam and Emily's wedding.

It was pure instinct, natural, as both of us leaned towards each other. Even though my heart was racing, I felt perfectly calm. It all just felt so right, and everything was going to be perfect. Now we were less than three inches apart and--

"Okay, people, let's go!" yelled Jared, coming around the side of his car and stopping in front of us. We quickly broke away. For a second, no one said anything, and then Jared grinned. "Ooh, la la!" He was so loud that Kim, Embry, and Paul came to look at us. "Willow and Seth are getting sexy over here!"

"Shut up," we said in unison. My cheeks were turning red.

"Sure, whatever you say." Jared wandered away and put his arms around Kim's shoulders, talking a mile a minute to her. I caught my name a few times.

"Idiot," said Seth.

"I know."

We followed them and climbed into Jared's car. I leaned against the seat and closed my eyes. I wondered what I'd gotten for my birthday, but, more importantly, what would have happened if Seth and I had kissed. From the way things had occured, I guessed that both of us had wanted it. Which told me something: that we were probably, at this point, more than friends, whether or not we'd realized it. Life could be so complicated, but I liked Seth. Still in the friend way, but when I asked myself if we really were just friends, I couldn't answer. So, maybe not in the friend way. Not quite.

I looked at Seth. He was singing off-key to the music Jared was playing.

With a contented sigh, I closed my eyes and waited to arrive home. I had quite a party ahead of me.

* * *

Author's Notes: Ugh, is it just me, or is this story moving way too fast? But don't listen to me. As Brock Dole says, "As artists, we hate what we create." This is no exception.  
By the way, the reason Leah and Seth were in bad moods was because Paul was mad, and you know that if one werewolf feels a certain way, so do all the others.  
Anyway, if this chapter confused any of you, let me explain. After Ciara said she wanted to move, Willow got mad because she didn't want to and insisted on staying in La Push. They figured out that the only way this could happen and still be legal was if Willow was emancipated, which she was. She, Heather, and CJ stayed in the house while Ciara went off. Willow fell asleep shortly after this happened and had a long and confusing dream in which she actually did move and, two years later, she'd dropped out of school and Heather had gotten her own house. She was emancipated and Ciara kicked her out. Willow went to La Push because it was the only place she wanted to be.  
(And by the way, for anyone who's wondering, Willow never dropped out of school)  
Bet you didn't see that coming, did you?  
Thanks for reading!


	12. Chapter Eleven: Wonder Why

Author's Notes: I am so sorry for the long wait, everyone! I've had a bit of writer's block lately. Here, let me thank asyouwish16 for pointing out that the werewolves can only feel each other's emotions when in wolf form. I honestly had no clue. (Ja, ich kann zuweilen wirklich stumm sein. I know.) Let's just say that Leah and Seth didn't get enough sleep the previous night or whatever and were tired and grouchy, haha.

* * *

**Chapter Eleven - Wonder Why**

It was raining again. Fat, clear drops of water punched the roof and fogged up the windows. If you listened closely, you could her thunder rumbling vaguely in the distance. Another typical La Push day.

On the couch in front of me, Seth was complaining like crazy.

"How can they give us all of this homework?" he ranted admist a pile of books and papers. "This stuff takes about seven hours to do. We don't have time for this. We have lives."

"Well," I said cheerfully, having already finished mine, "at least it's a rainy day. It's not like you have anything else to do."

"Every day is a rainy day," he grumbled. Wasn't that the truth.

The three of us (counting CJ) were in the living room of my house on a boring Monday evening. Heather was still at the library; she'd had to stay later today because they had something or another going on. And Seth was obviously complaining about how much homework that he, as a senior, was getting. I'd always thought that he was at least nineteen, and it surprised me when he told me he was actually seventeen. We went to the same school, but unfortunately, I was a sophomore and he was in the twelfth grade and we had no classes together.

I was busy holding CJ while he slept (thunderstorms always lulled him to sleep) and reading the book everyone had gotten me for my birthday. It had been wrapped up in silver paper and on a sticky note stuck to it there was "To Willow, From La Push." I knew that it meant La Push as in the community, but I thought it was funny the way it was worded, as though the book had risen from the ground in some sort of crazy La Push offering.

From the outside, it didn't look like much; the cover was a faded brown, and someone had scrawled "La Push" across it in permanent marker. On the inside, though, was a huge collection of La Push legends and old stories. They'd been written down over the generations by residents and visitors, ranging from smitten newlyweds to curious children, grumpy sea captains and wise senior citizens. I thought that this kind of thing belonged in a history museum, but everyone insisted that it wasn't a big deal, that they had more copies, and that they'd heard the stories a million times, anyway.

I liked the legends; they were far more interesting than any lame ghost story I'd ever heard. The words spun tales of wolves and beautiful but deadly creatures called "the cold ones" that sounded a lot like vampires (and, as I later found out, were.) It gave me chills to read about them.

Seth suddenly turned his head towards the door, and so did I. Even through the rain, both of us could hear someone knocking on it. What kind of crazy person would be out and about in this weather? But then I knew it was Heather coming home from work, so I put the book to the side and stood up to go answer. CJ rolled over slightly in my arms.

When I opened the door, it wasn't Heather standing on the porch. Instead, a girl about my age appeared from the shadows as I did. Her blemish-free skin was tanned a dusty gold. Her straight black hair was carelessly slung over her right shoulder, shielded by a dark pink raincoat that probably cost more than Jared and Paul's cars combined. She had the most beautiful glassy emerald eyes I'd ever seen, framed by symmetrical mascara. This girl had a heart-shaped face and a perfect ski-slope nose above full lips covered in tinted gloss. She looked more like a model than someone who would hang around La Push. LA or New York could easily be her home; she _definitely_ didn't belong here.

"May I use your phone?" the girl asked in a bell-like voice, holding up a cellphone that seemed to have been stepped on. "Mine broke."

"Oh, um, sure." I stepped aside so she could come in and pointed to the phone, which was sitting on a nearby end table. She gave me a grateful smile and went over to it, quickly dialing the numbers with a manicured finger. Seth gave her a curious look as she did so.

Heather promptly burst through the door just as the girl finished her phone call. "God, it's raining up a freakin' lake out there," Heather complained, shaking her wet hair a bit and getting water all over the walls. She gave the girl a curious look. "Who's this?"

"She had to use the phone," I said.

At the exact same second the words left my lips, the girl said, "Rochelle Sherwood. I just moved down by the hill, right next to that store...what's it called again...?"

"Dan's?" I guessed.

"Yeah."

"Really? That's where he and I work," I said, nodding my head towards Seth to indicate whom I was talking about.

"That's nice," replied Rochelle, sounding like she didn't really care. "Well, thanks for letting me use your phone, anyway." She opened the door and stepped out into the rain, closing it behind her a second later. I blinked and wondered why she needed the phone if she was going back out into that madness all over again.

CJ opened his eyes slightly and let out a small wail of confusion at the sudden light. "Now, what was that for?" I asked him, smiling. He closed his eyes again and wrapped his hand around his shirt. "Nothin'. I think it's time for you to go to bed."

After I put him in his crib, I went back downstairs and was about to ask Heather how things at the library had gone when the phone rang. She stood up and shuffled over to it, looking dead on her feet. I sat next to Seth just as he crammed all of his stuff in his bookbag.

"I give up," he said. "This homework's going to drive me crazy."

I nodded, knowing how that could be. From the kitchen, Heather was saying, "You're talking to her. Who's this?" There was a pause as they responded, and the phone slid from her hands onto the floor. She quickly picked it up and ran upstairs at breakneck speed, barking into the phone as she went, "What?!"

If there was one thing Heather had always been known for, it was how dramatic she could be over the phone. Just to make sure she didn't end up throwing it at the wall, I stood up, told Seth I'd be right back, and went up the stairs after her.

I couldn't imagine who was calling Heather, as the only people who had this phone number were Seth and Ciara, though I seriously doubted that she was bothering to contact us. Plus, whenever she talked to Ciara, she usually sounded a lot snottier than she did as I stood outside of her bedroom door and listened.

"Why are you calling me?" she was asking. "I thought you didn't care--yeah, well, how'd you get this number, anyway?" No, she definitely was not talking to Ciara. "Well, why did she? Oh, right. Because she does _everything_ you tell her to. That's how it's always been. And what is it that you can't take responsibility for now?" Heather paused, and then said, so loudly that I could easily hear her over the rain, "That's your problem, isn't it? You can't expect me to be able to do anything about it."

Who in the world was she talking to?

"Hang this up, will you?" Heather asked, suddenly right in front of me. She stood in the doorway and handed me the phone. I tried to read her expression, but all I got was emptiness.

"Who called?" I replied.

"That's none of your business," Heather snapped, and I raised my eyebrows. Touchy.

"Fine, then," I said, turning around and walking down the hall. "But you forget that I can always check the caller ID."

From a nearby mirror, I could see Heather's eyes widen. She obviously had not thought of that. "Willow, please, it's nobody." It sounded as though she was begging me not to check, and it made no sense. But obviously 'nobody' hadn't made her mad, and curiosity was just crawling at me.

When I arrived downstairs, I put the phone back into its cradle. Then I slunk over to the caller ID and looked at it to see who had called Heather.

And nearly fainted.

I knew this name, this number, even though it had been so long since I'd heard either one.

Why, after all of this time, was _he_ calling?

* * *

Author's Notes: Oooh, who's _he_, I wonder?  
You'll have to wait and see!  
Reviews appreciated very much! (:


	13. Chapter Twelve: Insomnia

**Chapter Twelve - Insomnia**

I couldn't sleep.

I turned over on my side for what had to be the millionth time and looked at the clock with bloodshot eyes. The bright, glaring numbers told me that it was now nearly three thirty in the morning. This was pathetic. I'd gone to bed at eleven. Three o'clock had marked the four hours I'd been wide awake.

How would I be able to survive in school, which was a mere four hours away? I'd probably fall asleep in Biology and be pronounced dead when they'd try to wake me up and fail. Ugh. And I had a huge test to take, too.

I didn't know why I could not sleep. I was exhausted, but, at the same time, not in the least bit tired. During my preteenhood, I'd struggled with insomnia, but it had simply gone away after a while. Now, though, it was coming back at full force, and I hated it.

I stared at the ceiling and closed my eyes. Every time I did this, though, they snapped right open again, and this was the case this time. So, I tried to count sheep. But that didn't help either, and I finally had to resort to imagine fields of flowers, which I'd heard could aid someone when they were having trouble sleeping. Still I could not go to sleep, and I turned to look at the clock again. It was four in the morning.

Damn.

I was seriously considering banging my head into the wall to knock myself out when the answer came to me. It felt more like sleepwalking than anything else as I stood up and slowly edged out of the room. I was just noticing that the rain had stopped, which was an added bonus.After slipping on a sweater and a pair of shoes, not caring that I was still in my pajamas, I exited the house.

In the hopes that the fresh air might help to clear my head, I wandered around the neighborhood, feeling the wet, spongy ground beneath my feet. Everything dripped with rain, drops sparkling in the moonlight. It was eerily quiet, the only sounds being my shaking breaths and the waves crashing against the shore. It was a bit spooky, really, making me feel like a serial killer was about to jump out of the silence with a gun or something.

The dirt sank underneath me as I crept along. I wondered if anyone else in La Push ever did this, and, if so, who? There had to be another insomniac somewhere.

I yawned and nearly tripped over a stray vine while doing so. God, I was tired. Exhausted, really. If only I could just get to sleep. I sat down, getting rain all over me in the process and not caring, and tried to pinpoint the root of the problem. I thought I knew what it was, and try as I might to ignore them, the memories kept coming.

_"Mommy?" I asked Ciara, tugging on her short black dress. My first day of second grade and she was ignoring me, as usual. What a wonderful mother. She totally deserved an award for her parenting._

_"I'm busy right now," she said, applying what had to be her fourth layer of mascara. "Mommy's got a date, remember?"_

_"How come I don't have a daddy?" I questioned. She froze and gave me a distressed look. "A girl asked me where my daddy was today."_

_Ciara kneeled down and put a hand on my shoulder. "Don't you remember him?"_

_"No."_

_"Your daddy...he left...a couple of months ago...you've forgotten him?"_

_I nodded. "Why did he leave, Mommy?"_

_All of a sudden, Ciara scowled and stood up. "Because of you. Now shut up and stop asking me questions."_

That stupid phone call had triggered all of this in the first place. Ugh.

_I flipped through the bridal magazine, wishing that there was anything else in the house to read. There was a section called "Wedding of the Month" or something that consisted of random weddings (usually of rich people) being selected to be in the magazine, complete with a centrefold of wedding pictures and a tiny box in the top right corner that said whose wedding it was. When I looked at it now, it showed a huge wedding at some park with a bride and groom in obvious designer clothes. The bride's lipstick alone probably cost more than any house we'd ever lived in, but I wasn't interested in her. The groom caught my attention, mainly because there was something so familiar about him, his eyes especially._

_With a start, I realized that I knew these eyes. They were my own._

_Sean Pearson was the groom's name. This was on my birth certificate, listed under "Father." It was the same for Heather. And now here he was, five years after he'd left, happily married to a woman who was not my mother._

_I ripped the pages out and promptly threw them in the garbage._

I knew almost nothing about my father. The only information I'd ever managed to squeeze out of Ciara was that he had left after claiming I was too much trouble to deal with. He'd done the same thing to Heather, but after a few weeks, he'd returned.

It was quite the opposite for me. I guessed I just wasn't worth Sean's time.

He was the one to call Heather, as I'd found out, though why, I had no earthly idea. He hadn't bothered to contact us ever since he'd left, so why was he now? It made no sense. I still had yet to wrap my head around it.

I thought back to Heather's conversation with Sean. From what I'd heard, he had a problem with some girl. Huh. Why was he calling Heather for advice? He didn't give a crap about either of his daughters, and suddenly he was talking to us. Something was obviously up, but I just couldn't figure out what it was.

I felt a hollow kind of echoing emptiness as I recalled Ciara's words from so long ago. _Because of you._

Because of me.

It didn't exactly count, as Ciara hated me and had a goal to grind my self-esteem into the dirt, but still. Sean was no longer a part of our family because I was just so demanding. Heather and I didn't have a dad and Ciara didn't have a boyfriend all due to me. It was my fault that we weren't the happy family we were supposed to be, my fault that our futures came crashing down so early.

Suddenly, I felt like I couldn't breathe. The air pressed down from all sides, suffocating me as I gasped. Only one thought among the sudden hysteria was clear: I had to get out of here.

I stood up and scrambled along the plants, feeling the unknown enemy trying to drag me back down. My vision was blurred as panic crept up on me. Every warning signal my mind had to offer was on full blast, telling me to calm down, but the anxiety had swallowed me long ago and a breakdown was mere seconds away.

I should have known.

The night was so still and quiet, so dark, that I couldn't help but feel as though something was lurking in the nearby shadows. I felt the strange kind of freeze I always got whenever this happened begin at my toes and slowly move upward before I was completely engulfed in it. It was much like behing trapped in the smooth muscles of a python waiting to devour its savory meal.

These awful panic attacks were getting more and more common, but each time they crossed my path, it just got worse. They zapped away any strength I had as was happening now; I had reached someone's house and briefly considered making a run for my own before everything broke down. I frantically put my hands over my head and sank to the ground, whimpering.

The world's vibrant colors bled away under my teary gaze as I bit my lip and bore down, waiting for the big finale that never came. I wasn't strong enough to endure anymore and just hoped for it all to end and free me from this strange abyss. But I couldn't let that happen, I had to go on, at least to try...

But I couldn't.

All of my energy quickly escaped and I crashed against the rutted ground, curling up in a fetal position and closing my eyes. This was torture. Anything, even death, would be better than this. The tears squeezed their way onto my cheeks and stole every ounce of breath I had left. Hyperventilating was the worst thing I could do right now, but here I was, sobbing my eyes out as everything came tumbling down.

I don't know how much time passed before a warm pair of arms wrapped around me and lifted me from the ground. My head lolled against the person's chest and my tears leaked onto their shirt. I didn't care who it was, and sobbed to them, "It's all my fault...He's gone...My dad's gone..."

"Shh, it's okay," said a voice I recognized as Seth's soothingly. "Everything's fine."

A door opened and Sue shrieked, "Oh my God, what happened to her?"

"I don't know. I think she's hyperventilating or something." Seth set me down on something soft that I supposed was a couch and covered me with a blanket. Sue walked over with a damp rag and wiped my face off with it, removing the tears and dirt. I blindly grasped at thin air; then, with my hands meeting nothing, I desperately clawed at my arms, needing to move somehow before I shrivled up and froze. Sue gently held my hands in her own and had a firm grip as I fruitlessly tried to break away from her.

Seth and his mother mumbled things I couldn't hear, and eventually someone - I guessed Seth, as the hand was very warm - brushed my hair from my face. Sue said something else in a quiet voice, and I thought I heard "Poor girl." Ugh. Why was she feeling pity for me? I didn't need pity. I didn't want pity.

"Do you have anything important going on in your classes tomorrow? Any tests?" asked Seth.

I thought back to school, the last thing on my mind now. "No."

"You don't have to go if you don't feel like it," Sue offered. "If you want, you can stay here."

"Mmph." Now that most of the panic attack had gone away, I was starting to feel a bit...sad, I suppose you could say. Sad and embarrassed and tired. Oh, so tired. I felt like I was less than a second away from conking out. "Thanks," I said to Sue, after remembering I was talking to her.

"You look tired," she replied. "We'll leave you alone so you can get some sleep." She stood up and smiled at me, and, after a quick good-night, left the room.

"'Night, Willow," said Seth, trailing behind her. "If you have any problems or whatever, um, feel free to wake up me or my mom."

"Seth," I croaked. He turned around.

"Yeah?"

"Wait up. Talk to me." I didn't know what to say, but I had to get something out before I exploded. Seth willingly obliged and sat on the floor in front of me. After a moment, I said, with some difficulty, "What I was saying about my dad...it's...it..."

Seth waited patiently for me to continue.

"Well." I looked down at my fingers and resisted the urge to bite my nails, something I always did in an anxious situation. "It's true."

Seth looked at me with his calm eyes and asked, "How so?"

"Um, my dad...when I was about seven...he walked out on us after he said I was too much trouble to deal with and that he was tired of me. And it's because of me that Heather and I don't have a dad and Ciara doesn't have him and...it's my fault." I took a shaky breath, and Seth put his hand on my shoulder. "It's just hard to deal with, you know? I mean, everything could be easier with him around. We could actually live our lives and have futures. Be happy. And I had to ruin it all."

"Willow--" Seth began.

"I think that's part of my mom's problem," I went on, not paying attention to him. "I think since my dad left, she really needs support and keeps hooking up with guys to...fill up the emptiness, or whatever." I sat up and felt like I'd gotten hit by a train. "Like, I know it sounds really dumb, but she's all lonely because of my mistakes. And," I added, as Seth opened his mouth, "I know you're about to say 'It's not your fault because you were only seven and he's the one with issues,' but he really did say, 'I am so tired of Willow and I'm leaving for good.' He said my name. He said Willow."

Okay, maybe I was bluffing a bit, but still. Sean had left because of me. Say bye-bye to a normal life with a dad, because Willow screwed it up!

"Is there any way I can convince you that you're wrong?" Seth asked, sitting down next to me.

"No," I mumbled, sniffling and wiping my nose with the back of my hand.

"I lost my dad to a heart attack," he said. "I know what it's like to live without one."

Oh, my God. My heart went out to him. He looked so broken and lost that no words could be said. Nothing but words I was sure he was sick of hearing: "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. There's nothing anyone can do about it. And anyway, I know Dad would want me to be happy, and that's all that matters. If I just get miserable over it, I'll be wasting my time, and I know he wouldn't want any of that."

I didn't know what to say.

"Anyway..." Seth said slowly, smiling, "do you want to talk some more? Because I don't know about you, but I'm about to fall over from exhaustion."

"Oh, right, go to bed. I didn't mean to keep you. Sorry."

"If there is one person in the world I like talking to, it's you. You don't complain on and on like some people I know...Leah," Seth added under his breath.

I laughed. "Well, thanks."

Seth smiled even wider, like I was cute, leaning forward slightly. Before I had time to react, he was kissing me. Seth Clearwater. Kissing. _Me._ On the lips.

Holy crap.

It was sweet but still satisfactory. He didn't try to push himself on me or get too rough, like some guys I'd had to deal with, and I liked that. I put my arm around his neck and wound my hand into his soft hair, pulling him closer. We sat there in what was my definition of "bliss" for a little while until we pulled away at the same moment. Well, at least our lips did; my arm was still around his shoulders, and his hand lay on my waist.

Seth grinned like a fool.

I grinned back.

"Now do you feel any better?" he asked.

"Very much so," I replied.

Seth hugged me close and kissed the top of my head. I felt a strange wave of...something that I couldn't name. Exhilaration? That would probably be the best word for it.

Exhilaration - (noun) The feeling of lively and cheerful joy.

Exhilaration, definitely.

Because right now, I felt happier than I'd ever been in my entire life.

* * *

Author's Notes: Oh God. I am crap at writing kissing scenes.  
YAY FOR HORRIBLE CHAPTERS LIKE THIS ONE!!  
Rock on!  
Anyway. I hope you all liked that chapter. (: Even though my headphones just broke in half and I feel sick and I've got a nasty taste in my mouth and I'm exhausted, I just had to update. 'Tis a life calling.


	14. Chapter Thirteen: The Worst of Times

Author's Notes: This chapter is a big pile of failure. Yay for crappy writing!

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen - The Worst of Times**

_Three weeks later…_

When I walked into the Clearwater's house, complete chaos met me. Endless papers and boxes were thrown haphazardly across the floor and part of the curtains on one of the windows seemed to have been torn off. Worst of all, Sue sat on the couch with tears streaming down her face as Seth, obviously distressed, gave her back a few gentle pats and tried to calm her down.

"Mom, it's okay," he said again and again. "She's fine. She'll come back."

"I should have never said anything…I'm such an idiot…" sobbed Sue. I'd never seen her so upset and it frightened me a little.

"Please, just listen to me, Mom. It'll be--"

"I'm going to try someone's phone," Sue interrupted, standing up. She brushed past me as though I wasn't there and exited through the front door.

"Um," I said, having nothing to do but stand there awkwardly. "Is this a bad time?"

Seth put his head in his hands and sighed. "Yes. Awful, really." I stepped over a phone that lay in pieces - I had a feeling it had been thrown against the wall, as it was under a scuff mark on the wallpaper - and sat next to him.

"What happened?" I asked, hoping that nobody had been murdered or eaten by a bear or something.

"It's Leah," Seth replied tonelessly, lifting his head from his hands. His face was as blank as his voice.

Time stopped all at once.

"Leah?" I breathed.

Seth nodded and bit down on his lip. He looked like he might start crying, and I was suddenly reminded, with a pang in my heart, of the time after Heather had been raped. I didn't know why, but something in his expression was just like it.

"What happened?" No answer. "What happened to Leah?" He stayed silent still. "Seth, what's wrong?"

"Well, for one, Leah loves Sam."

I had no idea, and I was sure my face matched my thoughts.

"Two, Emily is pregnant."

My mouth dropped open. Since when? I wondered.

"And three, Leah overheard my mom telling me about it an hour ago, wrecked the house, and ran out the door."

My head was spinning with all of this new information. Emily was pregnant. Leah loved Sam. Leah was gone.

Leah was gone.

I couldn't think of anything to say besides, "Is there anything I can do to help, Seth? I - I'm sorry."

"Well…I don't know." There was a pause as Seth thought about my question. "I guess we could start cleaning the house up."

"Oh, yeah, of course." We stood up in unison and looked around the living room. It really was a disaster, so we agreed on leaving it for last and started on the kitchen instead.

The chairs that used to be around the dining table were now in a pile, a few broken or otherwise damaged. The table itself seemed to have been snapped in half, and I had no idea how Leah had done that one. Maybe it was lighter and less tough than I'd thought.

"I don't think there's much help for this one," I said, running my hand over the wood.

"I don't either," agreed Seth. Together, we picked up the pieces of the table and carried them (or, in my case, dragged) them outside, deciding to put them in the dumpster later. After we went inside the house and sifted through the heap of chairs, we threw those outside, as well.

It just got worse. As we tracked upstairs, I noticed more and more papers torn to shreds and tossed around. A book that seemed to have been soaked through by water leaned against a step and I tripped over it. Seth caught me and set me upright, mouth forming into a tight line as he looked at a piece of paper at his feet.

By now I was scared to go into Leah's room, but Seth barged into there as easily as though he did this every day. A huge hole was in the door, which had fallen off of its hinges and crashed against the wall, making a dent. How in the world had Leah done this? I knew she was strong, but this was insane. If, say, Sam was mad, then yeah, I could see this much destruction, but I'd never thought Leah to be capable of it.

Inside of her room, more papers were strewn about. I looked down at one and felt a strange lurch in my stomach; it was a love note, directed to Sam, from Leah. Next to that, a picture was ripped in fourths, and as I carefully put it together, it showed Sam and Leah at some park or another with a violin player in the background. They were both smiling, arms around each other's shoulders, and for some reason, this made my heart ache.

"This is terrible," I said to Seth.

"I know." His voice sounded choked, from Leah or something else I didn't know, and I automatically turned to him. He was sitting on Leah's bed, misery written all over his face.

"Oh, Seth," I breathed, sitting next to him and putting an arm around his shoulders. "I'm so, so sorry that this had to happen."

Seth wrapped his arm around my waist and leaned his head against me. "It's not like you could have done anything about it," he said flatly.

"Yeah, but…still. She'll come back fine, though," I tried to add reassuringly. Seth obviously didn't buy it, and sighed. "Well…how…um…how far along is Emily, anyway?"

"About a month."

"Wow." Even under the situation we were in, that was amazing. New life always was. I remembered when Ciara was pregnant with CJ, how excited I was even though I had to stop her from smoking as usual. As the months passed, I forced her to go to doctor's appointments to make sure everything was okay and felt a wonderful thrill at the sight of every ultrasound. I hoped things would go okay with Sam and Emily's baby…or babies. What if they were having more than one?

We sat in silence for a little while. From outside, birds chirped and sang as though it were a perfectly normal, wonderful day, which, to them, I suppose it was. I thought about Ciara; I hadn't heard from her ever since she left La Push. I hoped she was okay. She was probably out there getting her heart broken, driving the roads to new places alone in the dark of the nights. The thought made me shudder.

"Well, there's no point moping around when all we can really do is wait," Seth said suddenly, breaking the silence and scaring me. I looked up at him and he smiled, like everything was okay - and it was, I kept trying to convince myself, it was.

"Yeah. I don't know about you, but I need some fresh air." I stood up and left the room, as it was starting to get stuffy in there. Seth followed me. The house was looking better after our cleanup, but the living room was still a mess, and frankly, I don't think either of us felt like fixing it. We went outside and the smell of flowers and sea salt immediately cleared my slight headache.

A little while down the road, we met Paul, Quil, and Embry standing in a circle. They were arguing over something (probably dumb; Seth and I rolled our eyes in unison) and, as we got closer, we heard Paul shout,

"Yeah, well, he knows he wasn't supposed to do that!"

"Get over it, Paul. You're making a scene," said Quil, putting a hand on his shoulder. Maybe it was just me, but he looked nervous, quite the opposite of Paul, who was shaking because he was so mad.

Jared suddenly stalked out of a nearby house. "Excuse me?" he growled to Paul.

"Guys. Shut up." Quil whispered something to everyone else, something I couldn't hear, though I thought I heard "Willow's around."

"Seth?" I asked, and Seth turned to look at me. "Why are they talking about me?" I demanded, putting a hand on my hip. "Just so you know, when gossip comes my way, I'm not afraid to fight back. I am a girl, after all."

"They're not gossiping about you," said Seth. He grabbed my elbow and turned around, obviously trying to drag me away. "So, the weather's looking rainy today, isn't it?" he boomed enthusiastically.

What in the world…?

Just then, Quil shouted something really loudly as there was a kind of soft, exploding sound. Growling echoed over everything, and, confused and startled, I turned around.

My mouth fell open. Seth was trying to get me away, but I was rooted to the ground.

"Crap," whimpered Embry. "Crap, crap, crap. This is not good."

"Well, don't just stand there!" Quil shrieked, running into the madness I could only identify as fur. Fur and a horrible growling that sent shivers up and down my spine. After a moment of confusion, I realized that the growling fur was two huge wolves, attacking the crap out of each other in the exact spot Paul and Jared had stood seconds before.

Seth gave up on pulling on my elbow and picked me up bridal-style, running away at the speed of a bullet. I protested with a million 'Put me down!'s until, frustrated, I snarled, "Explain to me what the hell is going on back there. And stop running, for God's sake."

"It was nothing," Seth said, still running. He was starting to get on my nerves, though I couldn't really explain why.

"Yes it was something, so tell me what was happening. Wolves don't appear out of thin air."

He looked down at me and halted his running, slowing to a walk and turning at some corner. "Actually, they can."

I snorted. "Sure, right, in Houdini World, but not in ours, Seth."

"It's a long story," he said, and unceremoniously set me down. I stumbled a bit and glared at him, but his focus was on the house in front of us.

"I don't care. Tell me what happened. And where the heck did Paul and Jared go, anyway?"

"It's a long story," Seth repeated, just as Emily came around the side of the house.

"Hey, you two," she said with a warm smile, and suddenly I remembered the baby. I had the feeling she'd just gone through a round of morning sickness, as she was pretty pale and there was a sheen of sweat on her forehead. I thought, Poor Emily. And then: Poor Leah.

"We need to talk to Sam," Seth blurted out.

Emily raised an eyebrow. "Sam? Okay, then. He's in the living room. What do you need to talk to him for?"

"Err…certain people…getting mad and doing certain things…" Seth met Emily's gaze with a hard look and she nodded, once.

"Ah, I see."

We were about to go into the house when Sam opened the door and stepped outside. "Oh, hello, Willow," he said. "And Seth. I heard that there's something you need to discuss with me…?"

Seth nodded. "Yeah. About…you know. Because Paul and Jared…yeah." He paused and quickly added, "But she was going to find out soon anyway, Sam, right? So it's okay?"

Sam nodded. "Yes, she was. Well, come on in, you two, and make yourselves comfortable. This might take a while to explain."


	15. Chapter Fourteen: Revelations

**Chapter Fourteen - Revelations**

"You see," began Sam, but Seth elbowed him in the ribs and raised his eyebrows at him. Sam cleared his throat and said, "Right, that's right," before turning back to me where I sat perched on a wicker chair. "Willow, have you been reading that book we gave you for your birthday? Because if so, it'll make explaining this a lot easier."

"Yes, I have. I finished it, actually."

"Okay, that's good. Well, you know about the wolves and everything?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Well, they…um…" Sam was clearly having a hard time getting his words out. This surprised me, since he was usually so leader-like. Then he just blurted it out: "All of those people you read about, the spirit warriors and all that, are our ancestors. And everything you read is true. What the situation is--"

"Ha, ha, ha. That's so funny I forgot to laugh," I said flatly. "But honestly, Sam, what's going on?"

"He just told you," said Seth. "We're werewolves. He wasn't joking."

"But there's no way," I replied easily. "Werewolves don't exist."

"Willow," Sam said gently, "I know you think that we're lying, and that's perfectly understandable, but I promise you that we're not."

"Right." I snorted. "And I'm Madonna." Usually I wouldn't be so disrespectful, but they were starting to annoy me with the joking around. I just wanted to know why the heck Jared and Paul had vanished and what was up with the wolves. Maybe they were playing a prank on me or something. If so, it was pretty lame.

"How can we prove it to you?" Seth asked.

"Well, I don't know. Turn into a wolf during the full moon," I replied sarcastically.

"Actually, we don't need to wait for the full moon," Seth said.

"Really."

"Yep. I could show it to you, if you want," Seth offered.

"Go ahead." I crossed my arms and looked at him. I had to see this. And I also had to laugh when nothing happened.

Suddenly, Seth…exploded. There was no other way to describe the way he leaped up and transformed into a huge animal or another. I think I screamed.

"Ho-ly shit," I breathed, looking down at the enormous wolf that was resting his head in my lap. I could have sworn he was smiling. "Sam?" I asked, and realized that there was a bit of a whimper in my voice. "What's going on?"

"Just what it looks like," Sam replied.

"But - but - there's no way…this isn't…oh, my God…" I stuttered.

The wolf's fur was the exact same sandy blonde of the hair on Seth's head. And, perhaps creepiest of all, his eyes were the same shade of his own. It was really weird, and I couldn't help but stare down at the wolf.

"Seth," I whispered, "that's you?"

The wolf gave a soft barking noise and buried his face in the crook of my arm. I took that as a yes. Wait, what was a saying? There was no way Seth could be this wolf, but--

"Well, do you believe us now?" asked Sam, breaking into my thoughts. I looked up at him, startled, to see him smiling, like he'd won.

"No," I replied. "This goes against the laws of…everything. It's not possible."

Sam continued on as though he hadn't heard me: "See, the reason we eat so much is because, you know, wolves in the wild, that's just what they do. And the reason we're so…well, not to brag, but strong, is because wolves have to be to catch their prey and all. Doesn't it all fit?"

"No," I repeated, but his words were starting to make sense. Everyone around here seemed to run really fast, and I knew how important that could be if they really were werewolves. Plus, the strength, the constant eating, the practically supersonic hearing, they added up. I'd always suspected that something fishy was going on in La Push, and now I had my answer. If this was real. And of course it wasn't at all--

God, who was I kidding? I knew that they were telling the truth; there was no other way to explain the way Seth turned into a wolf. I hesitantly stroked the wolf's - no, his - head and he looked up at me, curiosity in his familiar eyes.

This was so weird.

"Well, I don't know…" I said. "I think I might believe you, but…it's kind of…err…tough…How does this work…exactly?"

Seth wandered out of the room, his steps making miniature earthquake-like sounds. Sam answered, "It's not too complicated, really. Basically, we turn into wolves when we're mad…unless, of course, the situation permits otherwise, which it always does. And it can be at any time, like Seth was saying; we don't need the full moon or anything."

"Wow." This was incredible, really. I didn't know how in the world, of all people, I'd gotten into the middle of this, but I was fascinated. Then another thought came to me when I thought of the book. "Wait…in that book, it was talking about the cold ones…well, vampires…is that…do they…?" I trailed off, but Sam knew what I was talking about.

Sam nodded. "Yes, they do exist."

A chill ran down my spine. "Oh, my God. Are there any…around here?"

"No." There was something funny in Sam's icy voice, but I couldn't name what it was. Just then, Seth came back in the room, in human form. His clothes and hair were as neat as though nothing had ever happened. He sat next to Sam and whispered something in his ear. Sam nodded and whispered something back, then got up and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

All of a sudden, there was dead silence. I didn't know why.

"That's really amazing, Seth," I said after a moment. "I would have never believed you, but…now…I do." Saying it aloud made it official. Yes, I did believe them. Getting used to it, however, would take a bit of work.

"I don't blame you. I mean, if you would have called us crazy and ran down the street screaming, I wouldn't have blamed you either. It's not everyday that someone tells you they're a werewolf." Seth smiled a thin smile.

"Ain't that the truth," I muttered.

There was another round of silence.

"There's this other thing werewolves do…" Seth began. Maybe it was just me, but I thought he was nervous. Once, when we'd been talking about the subject, he said that he always ripped up paper when he was nervous. And now he was shredding the corner of a National Geographic magazine that was on the table in front of him.

"What is it?" I asked.

"It's called imprinting." He said it slowly, sounding out every syllable, as if to make sure I heard. Which I did. But I didn't understand what in the world he was talking about. "It's kind of like…I don't know how to explain it, but it's when a werewolf finds their other half. And then they're crazy about he or she, and they'd do anything for them. Love at first sight wouldn't do it justice, because it's a lot, lot stronger. Jacob once said it was like gravity…and I agree with that."

"Imprinting." I was still trying to get all of this down. "So basically, they just fall in love with the person? Just like that? And don't ever really fall in love with anyone else?"

"Yeah. You've got it. And they love that person forever, even if they don't love them back."

"Wow," I said for the second time. "That's fascinating. Really, it is. God, I didn't know you guys did so much…"

"Yeah," Seth repeated, and nodded. "It's also what happened with…um…Leah and Sam…They were dating and in love and all that crap, but then Sam met Emily and imprinted on her…Leah was just left behind, kind of. It really hurt her."

"Oh, no," I breathed. "That's horrible. Poor Leah…" I couldn't imagine how it felt. I'd never really wanted to hug her, mainly because she wasn't a huggy person, but right now, I wished more than anything that Leah would come over here from wherever she was and I could hold her close, to comfort her, say that everything would be okay. But of course, this didn't happen.

"And the thing with imprinting is that…some people never find their imprint, but others…well, they do. And…I've found mine." Seth coughed.

I immediately felt a surge of jealously. "You have? Who is she?" I demanded, and realized how petty I sounded. But still.

"Well…" Sam stood up and paced around the room, stealing glances at me every now and then.

The suspense was driving me insane.

"Go ahead and say it," I told him.

"I know, I know, but I'm trying to think up my response." Eventually, Seth took a seat next to me and breathed in a deep breath. He took my hand in his and stared deeply into my eyes as he replied with…

"It's you."

* * *

Author's Notes: Awww, how insanely adorable is that? I think all of you are going to gush over that for the next half hour. You might hate me for a cliffhanger, but really, it's not. I think we all know Willow's response, since it's obvious she really cares about him…

(:

This chapter was dedicated to my friend Traci. Who deserves a sweet Seth Clearwater of her own.


	16. Chapter Fifteen: Mixed

Warning: This chapter contains discussion that some may find offensive.

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen - Mixed**

"I…you imprinted…on…me?" I barely managed to gasp. I was having trouble breathing as I spoke the words. I couldn't believe it. All of this was getting to be a bit too much to sink in.

Seth smiled and brought my hand, which still had his wrapped around it, to my cheek. "Yes, I did."

I choked on my spit. "Oh, my…God…" I stuttered. "So…you…you're in love with me?"

Seth smiled even wider, pleased that I understood. "From the moment I met you, Willow. You are _so _beautiful." He took my hand from my face and kissed it.

"But…wait…" He was starting to get ahead of me. Or maybe I was just being slow, as usual. _Okay, Willow, _I thought, _don't get overwhelmed. Try to think it out. _

First things first: Seth loved me. And would for the rest of his life. Only me, never anyone else.

But what about how I felt about him? I couldn't answer this, myself. Sure, I cared about him a lot, and technically he was the first friend I'd ever had, and he'd been there through tears and arguments with Ciara, and God this was complicated, since he wanted to stay with me forever and I still didn't know where I stood even though I may or may not have loved him, but it was too early for that, I'd only known him about five months, but still--

I remembered then that Seth was still awaiting my response, so I said, "Well, I don't know. I mean…I do care about you, but…I…" God, why was it so difficult to say this?

Seth replied, "It's okay. I can understand if you feel like that."

"But--" A thought had just occurred to me. "Seth, I mean…since imprinting is, you know, forever…does that mean you want me to, well, marry you?"

"If you want me to."

Hoo, boy. I didn't know how to respond to this at all, so I said, "Well…I'm only sixteen."

"I know. I meant to say that we can do it whenever you want. _If_ you want to," he added quickly. "Don't feel like I'm pressuring you into this or anything, because I'm not. You can do whatever you want with your life. If you wanted to go off with some other dude or whatever, I wouldn't ever try to stop you."

"But then I'd end up hurting you," I pointed out.

He shrugged, like he didn't care. "So? Like I said, don't let me hold you back." But I could sense something sticky in the atmosphere, so I quickly changed the subject.

"Imprinting, huh?" I asked, leaning against him. I noticed, not for the first time, that he felt about two hundred degrees. Now, though, I knew it wasn't because of a possible fever, but instead just something werewolves did. Or whatever. "It sounds like it should be on a soap opera."

Seth laughed and slung his heavy arm over my back. "Yeah, it should."

We sat in silence for a little while. I thought of what Seth had said about marriage. It was crazy that we were talking about this at this age and time, but at the same time, not. After all, Seth was madly in love with me, and would be for the rest of his life. I just had to catch up with him.

If I wanted to, as he'd said.

I wasn't sure what I was going or wanted to do at this point. I did like Seth. A lot. But marriage could be as distant as the horizon or as close as my own hands in front of me, and I could spend any time I wanted to making my decision. It was all a matter of time, and what I liked about Seth was that he let me be independent. It was all up to me, and I had years until I the time for choices came.

I buried my face in Seth's shoulder with a contented sigh.

* * *

Usually when I came home from a day with Seth, Heather was sitting on the couch in the living room either reading, ranting, watching TV, or taking care of CJ. This time, she was sitting at the kitchen table and biting her nails. I took a seat next to her because I felt like she was about to say something important.

I was right.

"Willow, I need to talk to you," she said in a nervous, high-pitched voice.

"Okay," I replied, confused. What on Earth was going on now?

"Well…it's about you and Seth. And your relationship."

Oh, God. Please don't tell me she was about to say what I thought she was. _Please._

"Now, I know this will embarrass you or make you hate me forever…but…I wanted to…well, warn you, I guess I should say…about how far you might go in the future. Or might have already, I don't know." She cleared her throat.

Oh. My. God. I sank down in my seat, feeling mortified. This could _not_ be happening. My cheeks were burning, already a furious shade of scarlet.

"Heather, please. I really don't want to talk about this."

"I understand that I'm embarrassing you, but just listen to me. It'll only take a second."

I said nothing, but kept my ears open.

"I'll take that as a 'Yes,' then. Well, concerning what happened to me, I've been a bit paranoid of guys. Now, I'm not going to suggest that Seth would ever, _ever _do anything like that, but I just wanted to tell you the risks of…er…sleeping with someone."

God, kill me now. I put my hands over my head and tried to block out her voice.

"When I was raped," Heather said softly, and now I looked at her, surprised she was bringing it up, "it was awful. But it wasn't my first time."

"Being raped?" I asked, shocked.

Heather shook her head. "No, I mean it wasn't my first time sleeping with someone. It was my second. And the first time, he left me the day after." I noticed that she kept touching her stomach while she said this. Weird. "That was one of the worst times of my life and--"

"Well, what are you trying to say?" I demanded, standing up. I suddenly had a feeling that I knew what she was getting at. "That if I sleep with Seth, he'll leave me?"

"No, I'm not," she protested. "Willow, sit down and stop being ridiculous."

"You stop being ridiculous," I snapped.

"Willow. Sit down already," she said. And touched her stomach again.

"God, why do you keep doing that?" I added. "Are you pregnant or something?"

Heather's eyes flashed. "No. I'm not pregnant. It's just that my stomach hurts."

"You are," I continued, ignoring her. "You're pregnant. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Willow, shut up and sit down," she barked, standing up and contradicting herself.

"No! Just because you got raped or got your heart broken or whatever doesn't mean Seth will do the same thing to me. God, learn to not judge people all the time."

"I am not judging anybody here," Heather snarled back. "I'm just trying to keep you safe."

"Safe? You're trying to keep me safe. Tell me what you mean by 'safe' - oh, yeah, I forgot. Safe means, for you, staying away from everyone in the male population."

"Willow," Heather breathed, shocked. I could see that she was hurt, and a mean, horrible part of me was glad.

"I'm not going to listen to this," I replied, turning around and storming up the stairs so loudly people in Forks could probably hear me. Heather was hot on my heels.

"Please, listen to me! I'm not saying anything about Seth. I was just attempting to--"

I marched into my room and slammed the door in her face, locking it behind me with enough force for her to hear. I then flicked off the light and threw myself onto my bed, not even bothering to take my shoes off.

"Fine, then!" Heather shouted from the other side of the door. "Be a bitch like that! It's not as if I care! And when you end up getting hurt, don't come crying to me!" She stalked away.

And so I lay there, seething in the darkness.

* * *

Author's Notes: Ooh, what's Willow's problem? And Heather's? (Even though I'm sure you all hate Willow right now because she was being a meanie, Heather does have issues, too. Issues that will later be revealed.) And is Heather expecting a child?  
Well, you'll have to wait until the next chapter to know! Reviews appreciated very much! (:


	17. Chapter Sixteen: Bring It On

Author's Notes: I deeply apologize for not mentioning CJ in this chapter; I forgot about him, haha. I promise he'll be in the next chapter, though.

I know that lately this story has been lacking Seth/Willow action, but rest assured, it is coming soon. It's just that Willow has been focusing on other things.

Also, I'm sorry if some people are disappointed with the results of this chapter. It's just how I decided the story would go.

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen - Bring It On**

Seth was growing to hate his house.

It had started about four days after Leah's disappearance. He stayed over at my house until roughly about eleven at night, and when I told him it was getting late and I was about to fall asleep he sighed and said, "I can't stand my house. I don't want to go back there; it's so dead." But, ever the gentleman, he left anyway.

The next day, I felt bad for making him leave, so I asked - well, commanded, really - him to stay the night at my house. He happily obliged…

And had been staying at my house for nearly a week now.

Every now and then, he dropped by to visit Sue, guilt written all over his face as he told me that she was probably lonely. However, he always came back with slamming the door, growling about responsibility. Of course, the next day, he got a devastated look on his face and whined about Sue, beginning the cycle all over again.

I enjoyed his company thoroughly. We talked for about seven million hours a day and took long walks around La Push, splashing each other in the ocean's soft waves. But each day, he became more and more tired. Even though he kept going to bed extremely early, Seth woke up exhausted, with bloodshot eyes and eye bags to boot. I couldn't make any sense of it, but when I asked him how he was doing, he said that he was fine, had never been better.

* * *

One evening, Seth and I sat on the living room couch and watched old Disney movies. It was nearly one A.M., and both of us were tired from the beach that day, though we tried not to act like it. Unfortunately, this had failed and I was leaning against Seth with my eyes halfway closed, him dozing away.

There was a loud crashing sound from upstairs that scared the crap out of me; I jumped and collided heads with Seth, who blinked around, obviously confused. For a second, both of us froze and listened, but there was nothing to listen for - it was dead silent, the moments stretching on and on.

And then I heard Heather start to cry.

I sighed and stood up, wondering what the problem was now. "I'm sorry," I said to Seth, climbing up the stairs. "I'll be right back."

I turned on the light in the hall to find Heather sitting on the floor, surrounded by a puddle of her own tears. Next to her, a picture had fallen off one of our end tables and the frame had smashed, leaving glass all over the floor. Stepping closer, I saw that it was a picture of some friends of hers standing in front of the library and eating birthday cake. I couldn't imagine why Heather was so upset over a frame breaking, but then again, she pretty much cried at everything lately.

"Shh, it's okay, it's okay," I said to her softly, bending down for a hug. She trembled and clung to me.

"I can't even - what good am I - breaking - it's just - God, I hate this," Heather sobbed. I had to admit that it scared me a little to see her like this. I couldn't think of anything to say.

"Well," I began, but that was as far as I got. "Well…" I tried again.

"And I'm a freaking liar, too. A mother freaking liar." Heather sniffled and wiped her nose on the back of her hand. "That night…when…I lied. I lied. I'm no good, Willow."

I immediately knew what night she was talking about. I had a sinking, sinking feeling crawling from my head to my toes. How on Earth could we deal with this?

"Willow, I'm pregnant," Heather stated in a shaky voice, wiping away a tear.

"I know," I said.

She looked up at me. "You know? How?"

"I've suspected it for a while. Look, I'm going to clean this frame up. I want you to change into your pajamas or whatever and go rest in bed. Then I'll talk to you. Okay?" I asked.

No response.

"Heather?"

"Yeah. Okay." She dragged herself off of the floor, with obvious difficulty, and slunk into her room.

Meanwhile, I picked the glass up, doing it very carefully to not cut myself, and dumped it in a nearby garbage can. I then practically ran down the steps, dying to tell Seth the news, only to find him sound asleep, mouth open and head pressed against a pillow. Oh well, it could wait for morning. I started to put a blanket over him, but then, remembering that his body temperature was a hundred and nine degrees or whatever and he didn't need it, dropped it over his feet. I turned off the TV and the light and quietly crept upstairs.

Heather was sitting on her bed when I came into her room. She'd changed into sweatpants and one of my shirts I'd let her borrow a few days previously, but otherwise looked pretty bad. Her hair was sticking to her red face and tears rolled down her cheeks. Heather was also shaking so violently it looked as though she were having a seizure, and her breaths were short, raw gasps.

I sat down next to her and let her cry it out. What seemed like hours later, she'd smoothed down to calm hiccups and I wiped her face with the damp towel I'd picked up on the way to her room. She closed her eyes and took in a final shaking breath, then let it out and was still.

"Heather," I said, taking out my ponytail holder and using it to tie her hair back from her face, "just know that I'm supporting whatever you do all the way here."

Heather said in a surprisingly calm voice, "Thank you."

"So…how far along are you?" I asked.

"About four months." Heather was sounding sharp now, as if I was getting into sticky territory. I couldn't imagine how or why.

"Who's the dad?"

"You know how a while ago, I was throwing up and you asked me what was wrong? And I said it was that time of the month?"

"Yeah."

"Well, that wasn't the truth."

My blood ran cold. Oh, crap. Crap, crap, crap. This was not good. "So that means--"

"The guy who raped me, yeah."

"Oh, God. I can't believe it. That idiot. That good-for nothing piece of crap. God. This is terrible. I'm gonna--!"

Heather ignored this and continued, "I'm about four and a half months along. At least, that's what my personal calculations say. I don't know for sure. I really need to go to the doctor, but--" She looked at me, and I knew we were thinking the same thing: _We can't afford it._

"Listen, I'll find you a family doctor or whatever for cheap, okay? I'll keep on working really hard at my job for the money. I might even get another one, I don't know yet. But I will help you through this. Every step of the way."

Heather hugged me tight. I knew that we could do this. I just had to try hard to help pay for the doctor's bills. And hopefully I _could _find someone cheap, or else we might have a bit of a problem and she'd have to have appointments not too often.

We made ourselves comfortable, as I thought I was about to pass out. Heather stood up and turned the light off, then slid under the sheets next to me. We talked about the baby for what had to be ages. Heather said that she'd had several dreams that it would be a boy, but didn't care what gender it was. She wondered if she was going to have more than one baby. And she went on and on and _on _about how painful birth was going to be. I told her that there was plenty of time to prepare for that, but I was half-asleep, and my words came out like mush.

After a while, Heather fell asleep. I closed my eyes and let out a long sigh. So Heather was having a baby? Here we go.

As reality faded into dreams, I only had one thought:

_Bring it on._


	18. Chapter Seventeen: Holding On

Author's Notes: Sorry for making you guys wait forever for this cruddy update, guys.

I've been going through a deadly disease called "Writer's block."

And still am. Kind of.

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen - Holding On**

"Seth? Are you okay?"

I put a hand on his shoulder and looked at him with what I was sure was a concerned face. All around us, the sound of beeping, chatter, and usual Dan's Groceries insanity blasted upon our ears. Seth turned to me from the wall he'd been staring at for the last five minutes, obviously zoned out, and said, "What?"

I frowned. He looked pale. Pale and weak and tired. "Come take your lunch break with me. Please. It'll do you good."

"I'm not hungry," he replied, and turned away.

"If it's something I did--" I began, but he cut me off.

"No, you didn't do anything. I'm fine."

I was about to protest, but a woman was standing in my checkout line and complaining, so I reluctantly turned around.

Later that night, I had to drag Seth off of the couch, which was nearly impossible, considering how much he weighed. Then he started grumbling when I said I'd packed our dinner and was ready to go eat it on the beach, like a little picnic. "You need the fresh air," I told him. "Plus, I don't think you've eaten all day."

"I'm not hungry," he said again.

"Oh, shut up. You know you are. You've been like this all week and I'm not going to stand it anymore." I put my arm around his shoulder and lugged him to the front door. God, this was _exhausting_. If he could only cooperate for five seconds, it would be so much easier. "Okay, if you won't do this for yourself, at least do it for me," I said. I was trying to be nice but it sounded more like a growl.

That won him over. He straightened himself up and walked with me. Finally.

I was expecting the beach to be quiet and peaceful, considering that it was night and all, but apparently it was not. Jared, Sam, and about four of Paul's friends were playing football. Emily was sitting a few feet away from us and reading some pregnancy magazine, though how in the world she could see the pages in the dark, I had no idea. Next to her was my sister, CJ wrapped in her arms. CJ kept tugging on her hair but she didn't notice, as she was busy talking to Emily.

"…but month two is when you really start to feel bad, because you're sweaty and throwing up all over the place," Heather was saying. I kept forgetting that she was farther along than Emily. "Just be sure to take care of yourself, because if you don't, it makes everything a lot worse. Eat plenty of cantaloupe and carrots, because they really help you feel better in general."

"By 'take care of yourself,'" Emily said, "you mean…what, exactly?"

"Take a bath whenever you can, paint your nails, do your hair, that kind of thing. If you feel good on the outside, sooner or later you'll feel great on the inside." Heather hadn't even gone through pregnancy's fourth month and was talking as if she was a professional on the subject.

"So Seth," I said, turning to him. "How are you feeling?"

He shrugged, swallowing the peanut butter and banana sandwich he'd shoved in his mouth whole. He was finally eating, thank goodness; I'd started to worry about him. "I don't know. Kind of…you know. Just kind of…"

"You can't really explain it," I said, nodding. "I know the feeling." And I did. Living with Ciara, it was hard not to. After every argument, after every accusations had been shouted, every tear shed, every door slammed, Ciara went off to smoke a cigarette while I locked myself in my bedroom (or, if I shared my room with her, the bathroom) and thought about things. That same dull emotion Seth was feeling now had flowed through me, as well. It was impossible to describe, mainly because it was just…nothing. You couldn't say if you were angry or depressed, surprised or pleased, because you were none, but at the same time, all of them. The closest I could come to describing it was a blank sheet of paper, neither cold nor hot, exciting nor boring, just…there. Existing, if you could call it that.

"I'm sorry," I said, leaning against his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around my waist and gazed at the sea. "No, wait; I'm sure you're sick of hearing that. I meant to say 'That sucks.'"

Seth laughed, a dead, toneless sound that made me look up at him with sudden panic. "Seth, are you okay?" I asked. "You've been acting so weird lately and--"

"I'm fine," he replied dryly.

"No, you're not."

"I'm _fine_."

"No, you're not, and you know it."

"Willow, I'm f--"

"Stop lying to me, dammit!" I practically screamed, fed up with it. Heather and Emily looked over at us with raised eyebrows, and I lowered my voice. "Look, Seth, I really care about you, and I'm worried. You've been acting down in the dumps lately…is there anything I can do?"

"I don't know."

"And you're absolutely positive that it wasn't something I did."

"I am 100 positive, no doubt about it at all." Seth kissed my forehead and grinned a hollow smile. "You are so insecure sometimes."

"And you love me for it," I joked.

"Indeed."

"Answer me honestly, though," I said after a minute. "If I'm not the problem, then what is?"

"Well…it's kind of hard to explain…it's kind of…about…Le--"

He stopped there and his eyes widened; it had obviously not been his plan to let the last part slip. I still knew who he was talking about: Leah. I took in a sharp breath as it all fell into place. Of course he missed his sister. Good God, I was an idiot.

"I'm _so_ sorry! I totally forgot - man, I'm a - of course, Leah - I should've--" I stumbled over my words in my haste to get out my apology, but I think Seth got the message.

"It's okay," he said. "But that's not the whole problem. I mean, yeah, I do miss her, but it's not - crap - I don't - uggh…" Seth gave me a pathetic expression that made my heart hurt. "You know what I'm trying to say, right?"

"Not really."

"Well, what I'm trying to say is that even though I miss Leah, that's not the main problem. It's kind of hard to say, but…since she left because of Sam…kind of makes me worry about our relationship."

What?

"I mean…I was just thinking about…if…if something was to happen to you and me…"

I sat there for what must have been a good ten minutes trying to figure out what he was saying. And then, finally, I understood. He was afraid I could possibly leave him…or something like that. Seth could be pretty weird sometimes.

"And you call me the insecure one," I teased. "You know I'd never do that."

"Yeah, well…never mind," Seth grumbled, obviously uncomfortable with the subject.

But I wasn't going to let this go, so I pulled it right back in between us. "You are the most wonderful person I've ever met, Seth, and not even a dude beating me over the head with a flaming torch and trying to drag me off could ever keep me away from you." This was sounding cheesy, but it was the truth.

Seth smiled. "What in the world did I ever do to deserve you?" And then he kissed me, and I knew whatever depression he'd been going through was mostly over; I could see it in his eyes.

We broke away and I curled against him, feeling a drop of water hit my head. Great. Rain again. But I didn't really mind, because Seth was so warm. It was actually very nice.

Another drop, then another, and another, and suddenly it was pouring, the rain beating down on the sandy terrain. Seth and I stood up. Seeing as Heather and I had no car, we'd walked here, which meant we'd have to run all the way back home.

"You guys go ahead," Heather said to us. "I'll catch up with you later; I'm going to Emily's house for a bit."

"Okay," I replied, linking my hand in Seth's. We ran for it, getting soaked in the process. Once we rounded the corner, we took shelter under a bunch of trees lining the sidewalk, slowing our pace down a bit. And then of course I somehow managed to crash into Seth, which was like running into a rock; I stepped away with a stagger, a bit disoriented.

"Are you alright?" Seth asked me worriedly.

"Yeah, fine." This wasn't the truth; my shoulder, which had gotten bumped, was throbbing, and I was positive there would be a bruise in the morning. But Seth didn't need to know that.

A police car from Forks cruised by slowly, and I watched it, wondering what in the world was going on. After it disappeared from sight, I turned to Seth with raised eyebrows.

"I bet you five dollars that it was something Paul lit on fire," he said.

I laughed. "Okay, it's on, then." We walked along in silence before reaching my house. By now it was really raining, which it always did in La Push: five seconds after the first drop of rain, a walloping storm would cover everything, giving someone little to no time to run home. Indeed, we were sopping wet, and I was shivering a little.

"How in the hell is Heather going to get home in this?" I asked, digging in my pocket for the house key. "She doesn't have a car."

Way to state the obvious.

"I guess she'll have to spend the night at Emily's," Seth suggested.

"But she had CJ."

"Oh, right. Well, I don't know, either."

Where was the key? I'd been searching every inch of my pockets for it and my hands had met nothing. Our puny little porch cover was doing nothing to shield us from the rain, and I cussed under my breath as some slid off of the roof and hit me in the face.

"Crap," I said a second later. "Crap, crap, crap."

"What is it?" Seth asked, holding a hand over his eyes as the rain tried to attack his face.

"Heather has the key. I totally forgot. Crap…this isn't good…" Worst of all, neither of us had cell phones to call Heather, so this could turn into a big problem very shortly. When I was fifteen, some girl had taught me how to open a lock with a barrette because she'd been trying to break into a store for cigarettes. But I didn't have a barrette now, so we were stuck.

"Would this help?" Seth questioned, lifting up a flower pot and handing me the barrette I always stuck under there. I'd completely forgotten about it.

"Seth, you're a lifesaver." Within a few minutes I'd gotten the lock open and we stumbled inside. I shivered again. "It's cold--" I began, only to be interrupted as Seth wrapped his arms around me and smiled.

"Feel better?" he asked.

"Much."

We stood there in silence for a few moments. The rain was making me tired, and I was about to walk over to the couch and collapse on it when there was a knock on the door.

"Who the heck is that?" I grumbled, going over to open it.

A sheet of rain smacked me, and I blinked. Standing beneath our wimpy porch light was a middle-aged guy with a police officer's uniform on, badge stuck on his shirt. From behind him, I could see the Forks police car that had driven down the road.

"Hello," he said. "Is this the Davidson residence?"

"Yeah…why?"

"I was contacted from Wyoming with some news I need to tell you."

"Oh." I realized a second later that I was just standing in the doorway like an idiot, so I stepped aside and he came in, sitting down on the couch. He greeted Seth as I sat in an armchair across from them.

"You're Willow, correct?"

"Yes."

"Where is your sister?" the police officer asked.

"She's at a friend's house."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Willow," he said cheerfully. "I'm Charlie Swan."

I didn't know how to reply to that, so I just sat there and nodded.

"Today, the police from southern Wyoming called me to tell you some very unfortunate news. They sent me their deepest apologies."

Wyoming? What in the world did Heather and I have anything to do with Wyoming? I couldn't think of anything at all. Seth had a worried expression and reached out to hold my hand, biting down on his lip.

"Willow," said Charlie, "I regret to inform you that two nights ago, your mother's body was found in her home. She had been dead for over three hours before a neighbor came across her."

It was all I could do to keep from breaking down on the spot. Because I knew that if I did, I would start screaming and would never, ever be able to stop…


	19. Chapter Eighteen: Not Used to This

Warning: This chapter is a bit steamy. So if this bothers/offends you or if there's audiences around you would rather not see this, um…just don't read.

Also, this chapter mentions suicide and is somewhat depressing…so read carefully!

Sorry for the shit chapter, guys. I'm not feeling too great…but when do I ever?

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen - Not Used to This**

Three months had passed since Ciara's suicide. Three impossibly long months. I spent most of the time sleeping or being wrapped in Seth's arms, my head bowed against his shoulders. I refused to believe that Ciara was gone. There was just no way she could be. Her death hit me in a way I didn't expect, forcing me to wake up some nights with frantic tears streaming down my face.

I'd never liked her much, and I guess you could say I got over her death rather abruptly. But it really made me realize how quickly, how unexpectedly, someone could be gone, and it scared me.

I'd hesitated to tell Heather about Ciara. I wasn't sure, considering the fact that she was pregnant, if the shock and everything would do something horrible to the baby. I knew I'd have to tell her eventually, though, so that night, I woke her up and delivered the news. All she did was glumly put a hand on her stomach and sigh, unlike myself, who had been through about forty sobfests already.

The funeral was held a few days after Charlie told me the news. It was a quiet ceremony, considering that Heather and I, the only people to attend (several La Push residents had asked to, but we refused politely, wanting to do it just by ourselves) and didn't last very long. I left a white petunia on Ciara's grave and walked away quickly, wiping at my eyes.

Heather and I weren't holding up too well. We were constantly getting into arguments that were worse than ever, considering that our mother was dead and Heather was hormonal as hell. Once, we even got into a fistfight that left me with a bleeding lip and her a black eye. Later, I felt awful about it because I could have injured the baby, but I did not apologize. It was her fault, anyway.

I tried to focus on other things, like Seth. He was now back to living with Sue after a huge argument they'd had, but he was constantly coming over to check up on Heather and I. And I don't know whether it was just being a teenager or me trying to make up for the absence I now felt - I still hadn't decided whether or not I loved him, and felt horribly guilty for it - I was really, really rushing our relationship along. It was probably wrong, and if it all came crashing down, it would be my fault, but sometimes I couldn't help myself.

Times like this:

_"Oh, God, Seth, look at this." I dragged the magazine I'd found lying around the Clearwater's house in front of him. It blared all over the cover about some celebrity being pregnant or something. I scoffed. "As if anyone cares that much."_

_"Yeah," replied Seth. "The media gets pretty crazy."_

_"I know, right? It's ridiculous." I stood up to throw the magazine away - it wasn't as though Sue was going to read it, anyway, she hated these types of magazines as much as I did - but tripped over my shoes, which I'd stuck on the floor, and landed smack on top of Seth. The impact knocked the air out of me and the magazine fell to the floor. Seth blinked at me, and I blinked at him, and he suddenly smiled._

_"Well, this is awkward, isn't it?" he asked._

_"Not really." I dropped my head against his chest and yawned. He was so warm and comfortable that I wanted to go to sleep right there. "I'm tired," I added._

_"You're always tired."_

_"Yeah, well…get over it," I responded._

_Seth pretended to be hurt. "You're so mean," he said._

_"I am not."_

_"Yes, you are."_

_"I am not."_

_"You are."_

_"Look." I raised my head up and gave him a quick peck on the lips. "There. Do mean people kiss other people?"_

_"Yes." _

_"And what's that supposed to mean?" I asked, faking offense._

_He grinned and sat up, linking an arm around my back. Then Seth kissed me with more passion than usual - taking me at first by surprise, but I lost myself in it at some point or another._

_Then, of course, I had to screw up everything. As usual._

_All I did was reach a hand under his shirt. Honestly. I didn't mean anything by it. But I wasn't going to point the finger of blame at Seth, because it was my fault. I was an idiot for trying to push him like this. A huge idiot._

_Seth gently took my hand in his and met my eyes with a look. That was all it took for me to know that I'd fucked up. Big time. Cheeks burning red with embarrassment, I slid off of him and sat up, trying to wipe away the tears of humiliation as subtly as I could._

There had been several times like this ever since, all with the same outcome. Sometimes I was the one who messed up, sometimes it was him, sometimes both of us. And each time I just felt so embarrassed, no matter who was the one. I'd never been with a guy on such a serious level and I wasn't used to it. It was weird and wonderful and horrible and bound to happen... I couldn't describe it. But though I might not have understood how or why, I knew that things between Seth and I had changed, not counting the crazy hormones.

I just couldn't put my finger on it.

* * *

Heather had not been very happy lately. She was now seven months pregnant and a grump. If she wasn't complaining, she was eating, if she wasn't eating, she was demanding I get her newest craving, and when she wasn't doing that, she was sleeping. This certain day, I'd been stuck at home all day long because it was rainy and I hadn't gotten any sleep the night before. The only things I did would be talking to Seth and Kim on the phone. I was sitting on the stairs, yawning and wishing my headache would go away, when two doors banged open at once. One was from the kitchen, the other was the front door.

"You will never believe what kind of _shit_--" began Heather, looking pissed off.

"Emily and Sam--" Seth said.

They stopped talking at the same time and looked at each other. "You go first," said Seth.

Heather sat on the couch, and I crept down the stairs and took a seat next to her while Seth copied me. "I'm warning you that this is upsetting," Heather began warily.

"I can take it."

"Okay, well…some lawyer dude just called me. Since Ciara is dead--" I winced at the word "--and neither of us have custody of CJ, he's going to be…er…put up for adoption," Heather finished glumly, putting a hand on her big stomach. A tear followed the tracks of others that must have been shed earlier.

My heart dropped down to my stomach.

"W-What?" I choked, my breath catching. "No, that…no…can't you adopt him or something…?"

"I can't. I've been trying all these months and I can't. I…I can't." Heather buried her face in her hands and trembled. Normally I would have been trying to prevent her from falling apart, but now I was trying to keep up my own walls.

The rain was coming down in sheets now, kicking the windows, but it wasn't loud enough to drown out the rapid breathing of my heart. Ka-thump, ka-thump, ka-thump.

I had only one thought:

_I. Can't. Breathe._

It was ironic that, at that moment, one of CJ's wails echoed down the stairs. Seth stood without a word and went to go get him. I could feel another panic attack coming on, another lethal panic attack. My airway was clogged up, like someone was squeezing a hand around my neck. I could feel a strange kind of pressure overcoming me, trying to push me down, down, down.

Heather was looking at me now with watery eyes. "Willow, are you okay?" she asked.

No. No, no, no. Wrong. Incorrect. Game over, thanks for playing. I was not fine. Horrible, actually; I hadn't felt this bad in a long time, since I'd very seriously considered suicide when I was fifteen. Sorrow had spread its bittersweet wings over the atmosphere, but now there was something different: I was mad.

I stood up and stalked around the room. What kind of fucking loser couldn't keep their own family together? Me. If I had just gone with Ciara when she moved, I could have prevented her from dying. If I had done this, CJ would still be staying with us. Hell, I should have gotten myself run over by a car as soon as I had the chance. It would have saved everyone a lot of trouble.

I could hear Seth in the background asking Heather if she would like to hold CJ, her replying with a yes. I felt his eyes on the back of my head, and turned around to meet them.

He was concerned. Walking towards me. Opening his mouth. Holding his arms out to envelop me.

That was when I started to cry.

Seth ran for me, but somehow, I was faster. I tore up the stairs and darted into my room, slamming the door behind me and locking it. My hands were shaking. I flung myself on my bed and crawled under the covers, trying so hard to find a way to hide. I eventually curled up and let the tears flow, never blinking, just staring. Just staring. Just staring.

There was a series of knocks on the door that I ignored. I tried to make myself cry harder. Maybe if all of the water in my body escaped through my eyes, I would dry up and die. I hoped so.

"Willow, please," Seth whined from the other side of the door.

No.

"Don't make me break this door down, because I can," threatened Seth.

From somewhere downstairs, there was a sudden burst of hysterical wailing. CJ. I could hear Heather trying to calm him down, but it didn't do anything at all.

"Willow," pleaded Seth quietly.

"Why won't you leave me alone?" I growled. I didn't feel like dealing with him. I felt like dying.

"It's not your fault," Seth said.

I wasn't going to respond to that. I wasn't going to point out that he was wrong. I wished he would just go away. Which was what I said next.

There was a long, long pause. I could almost hear the gears in Seth's brain working together. He eventually began, "If you're thinking of killing yourself, I'm right here. It's fine, Willow. It's fine."

"Don't," I said, gasping for breath. The tears came running, choking me. "Please, don't."

"But Willow, I lo--"

I put my hands over my ears. I didn't want to hear the rest of that sentence. I was sick of people lying to me. All I wanted was the truth, but ironically, I got everything false.

Then the thoughts started.

Who the fuck did Seth think he was, lying to me like this? He knew it hurt me. He knew it. Way to drum up sympathy for poor little Seth, whose dad had died and his "girlfriend" didn't love him. Way to take away any self-confidence I'd ever had by taking it away and throwing it down the garbage with his lies. Those stupid, stupid lies.

The guilt started around that point. Of course it wasn't Seth's fault. It was mine. It was mine for pushing him away and hurting him so much. I was the one who was supposed to be stepped on and injured, the one who deserved it. Not Seth. Never Seth.

There was a weird kind of crunching sound and I cautiously peeked out. Seth had broken the lock and was standing there with his arms crossed over his chest, frowning. I groaned as he came to sit down next to me.

"How many times will it take me to say 'It's not your fault' and make you believe it?" he asked, helping me sit up.

"Too many." I had a headache. Ugh.

"Well, it's not your fault. Multiplied by infinity."

"Shut up," I replied, rubbing at my eyes. Just the fact that he was here made me feel a little less panicked, but not much. At least I could breathe easier, though.

"You," said Seth, "need to sleep."

"No I don't," I muttered, but I could already feel sleep dragging down my eyelids. And just like that, I was suddenly so tired. Of everything. The initial horror and despair of CJ's situation had started to ebb away, to be replaced by exhaustion. I just needed to sleep. And never wake up.

* * *

Waking up was awkward, but it would have been even more so if Seth was awake. His arm was slung around me and he was drooling all over my pillow, but, thankfully, he was asleep. I edged out from under him and tried to stand up. Unfortunately, I tripped over his legs and came crashing down to land on the floor with a loud thud. My head smacked against the bed frame and I saw stars.

Somehow, Seth was still asleep. I scrambled to my feet and looked around for a piece of paper and something to write with. I eventually found a sticky note and a pen and, ignoring the throbbing pain in my head, and wrote a quick note, leaving it on the bedside table and exiting the room as quickly as possible.

_Went for a walk. Be back later._

_-Willow_

It was cold outside, considering that it was now early December. Considering everything that had been going on lately, I hadn't been paying much attention to the weather, and now I was starting to regret it. I needed to buy some season-appropriate outfits, and quickly, before I froze.

Rain dribbled off of leaves and slid onto the soft ground. I shivered. La Push weather was just so insane; just a few days ago I'd been sweating up a storm and now it was cold cold cold. I slipped on a pile of leaves and steadied myself just as a voice behind me said, "Hi, Willow."

I turned around. A girl around my age was standing there in a designer coat and boots, smiling. She looked really familiar and, as I thought about it, I realized where I knew her from: she'd asked to use my phone a while back. She was Rochelle, the girl who lived down by Dan's.

"Oh, hey, Rochelle," I replied, wondering what she was doing out here so early. But then again, she was probably thinking the same thing about me.

"Long time no see, huh?" she asked. "Look, I'm sorry that I'm saying it so late, but I heard about your mom and I'm really, really, really sorry that happened. That must suck. I mean, if it were me, I'd probably, like, die." But Ciara was not her mother, so she really had no idea what she was thinking about. Nevertheless, I was touched by her sympathy. "I'm here for you if you ever need me, alright?"

"Alright. Thanks."

"No biggie. Anyway, the main reason I'm here is because your friend asked me to get you…she said she had to talk to you about something."

"Who?"

"She said her name was…well, her last name was Clearwater…and her first name was…uh…" Rochelle slapped a hand to her forehead as she remembered. "Oh, yeah, that's right! Leah."


	20. Chapter Nineteen: Repair

Author's Notes: Would you believe (I stole that from Inspector Gadget, haha) that this story is coming to an end? Yeah…only about five chapters left…

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen - Repair**

"I just don't know what to say to them," Leah whispered, looking towards Sam and Emily's house with a distressed expression. "I mean, I have to say _something_…but what?"

I put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a hard look. "Leah, you've already come this far. Don't back down now. Just…say whatever comes to mind. Okay? You can do this. I have faith in you." I gave her shoulder a pat and she took in a deep, shaky breath. For a moment, she looked as lost as I felt. But then she forced on a brave face and started to walk towards the house.

We'd spent the past hour doing something we'd never really done before: talking. I now knew the news about Sam and Emily, and it wasn't pleasant. Emily, just five months pregnant, had gone into premature labor for an unknown reason and the twin girls she'd been pregnant with had not made it. (I refused to call them "dead." Just "gone.") Leah, though she couldn't pinpoint why, had had the feeling something was wrong and had come back to La Push, only to find the mess they were stuck in now.

We'd painfully discussed Sam and Emily. I told her that I knew what had happened with Sam and herself and was genuinely sorry. Sniffling, Leah had thanked me and said that even though it was going to be tough, she wasn't about to turn her back on Sam and Emily and would do whatever it took to make them happy again. I personally thought this was very brave of her and, while she sat there and cried, reminiscing about Sam, I put my arm around her and told her that I was proud of her.

And I was. As strange as it might sound, I was.

Now, Leah knocked on the door with authority. With confidence. _You can do this, _I'd said. And it was true. Leah was tougher than she seemed. I didn't know where she'd gone after running away, but I did not need to. Sometimes we all needed to escape for a little while, whether it was to the next town over or a neighbor's house, another state or city. I understood if she didn't want to talk about it. After all, I'd ran away from home several times, and the thing about it that I hated most was talking about it after Ciara dragged me back and hounded me for details.

Emily opened the door. Considering the problems with the babies the previous night, I thought she'd still be at the hospital, so I was surprised to see her. She looked awful, poor Emily; her eyes were red and puffy, and a snotty tissue was balled up in her left hand. She walked with a limp and winced with every step, in obvious pain. The second she saw Leah, she froze in her tracks, already wide eyes growing larger, and there was a sudden, deafening silence.

And then Leah did a very un-Leah-like thing and threw her arms around Emily, burying her face in her shoulder. Emily hesitated for a moment, but then returned the embrace and bowed her head against Leah. It took me a minute, but I eventually heard Leah's voice breaking as she said, over and over again, "I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry…"

She was crying. Leah Clearwater, one of the strongest people I'd ever met, was shaking with sobs, tears running down her cheeks. It was unnerving but so beautiful and natural at the same time. I'd always known there was something beyond the frigid bitch Leah presented herself to be, the drop of remorse in there somewhere, and standing in front of me was solid proof of this hypothesis. It felt strange to watch as Emily started to cry as well, like this was something private, and in a way, it was. But I had a story to tell now, a story that, I realized, was yet to be told to Seth, who was still sound asleep in my bed and oblivious to the fact that his sister was back.

I took a step backwards, then started to run.

The front door banged closed behind me as I darted into the house. For a second, I was thinking that the sound might have woken up everyone, but then I saw that there was no need for my worry: Seth and Heather were already up. Seth was sitting on the floor with the phone in his hand and Heather was sprawled over the couch with a hand over her stomach, grimacing as a whine escaped from her lips. I immediately knew that something was wrong and stopped dead in my tracks.

"I told you, Seth, it's not the real deal," said Heather. "Put up the phone."

Seth bit down on his lip but stood up anyway. As he turned to face me, I asked, pretty sure all of the blood had drained out of my face, "What's going on? Heather? Is the baby coming?" My voice was high-pitched and shaky, and Seth's already concerned expression intensified.

"No. It's just Braxton Hicks."

I gave her a confused look.

"They're kind of like fake contractions, preparing the body for labor," Heather explained as Seth put the phone back in the cradle.

"Oh. Well, are you okay?"

"Yep, fine. Never been better," said Heather cheerfully, wincing.

"How do you know it's not the real delivery, though?"

"Because I can tell when an infant is trying to claw its way out of my body and when it's not. Besides, the book said I might get these this week and it's too early, anyway. I still have two months to go."

"But that doesn't mean anything. Emily had the babies four months early."

Heather's eyes widened. "She did? When?"

"Last night."

"But she's - she was - only five months --"

"I know, Heather, I know. They didn't make it."

"Oh." Heather tried to sit up. "Oh, well, _shit_! That's no good."

"I know."

We didn't say anything, absorbing in Emily's fruitless birth. Seth came back in the room and I seized the chance to tell him about Leah, wanting to break the sudden disrupt in the atmosphere. So I said with a grin,

"Leah's back."

Seth stared at me for a moment, his jaw slackening. "Are you serious?"

"Dead serious."

Seth grinned and swept me up in a bone-crushing hug, saying the whole time, "I knew she'd come back. I knew it."

"That's what I've been telling you ever since she left, Seth."

* * *

It was another one of those times again.

How Seth and I had ended up making out in the backseat of his car, I had no idea, but now his hand was creeping towards my skirt and I had to stop it.

"Seth," I said, and took his hand in my own.

"I'm sorry," he replied. "I'm sorry. I just - I forgot - I think I overstepped my boundaries there…"

"No, it's okay." I personally didn't think he overstepped any boundaries and secretly wanted more…but I wasn't about to say that to him, really. 'Oh, hey, Seth, I think you're really hot, so you wanna bang?' No. Just no. Talk about awkward.

"I'm sorry," Seth said for the third time.

"Shut up."

"But I'm sorry. And I mean it."

"Stop apologizing, Seth. It's not like you really did anything bad." I smiled at him and pressed my lips to his. After I broke away, I said with a wide grin, "Anyway, I can't hold it against you because I know what it's called - 'puberty.'"

Seth blushed. Actually blushed. Damn, I didn't see that one coming. "Yeah, well--" he began.

"Dude. It's okay."

"Are you sure? Because--"

"Positive."

"Alright, then."

We sat up at the same time and I looked out of the window. The sun was setting, its rays casting orange and red hues across the sky. I nearly jumped out of my shoes when there was a sudden tapping on the window.

"Hey, you lovebirds," said Jared, opening the car door. "Sue wants you for dinner. Stop fooling around and come on."

I crawled out of the car with Seth right behind me. "We were not fooling around," I said indignantly as the three of us started to walk towards the Clearwater's house.

"Looked like it to me. And, Willow, I'd say you'd better fix your clothes before everyone thinks the same thing."

I looked down, and sure enough, my skirt was put on sideways. I could feel my cheeks getting red as I readjusted it. Crap. Jared was the last person I wanted to notice this sort of thing.

"He doesn't even know what fooling around is," Seth muttered under his breath. I snickered.

"I heard that," said Jared without turning around. "I do know what _it _is, I just prefer to not see _it _being done in front of my eyes."

"_It_?" questioned Seth, raising an eyebrow. "Are you in third grade? Because, man, there's no shame in calling _it_ by _it_s name."

I laughed, and so did Seth. It occurred to me, in that moment, that this was what I loved about him.

Wait.

I stopped mid-thought.

_Loved? _Loved about him?

Honestly, _love_? Since when did that come into my part of the equation?

"Willow?" asked Seth, pausing and turning around to face me. I only realized then that I had stopped walking. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

I hesitated to answer. But after a minute, I started walking again, and smiled cheerfully at him. "Nope. Nothing."


	21. Chapter Twenty: Pressure

Author's Notes: This chapter was inspired by the awesome song Pressure by Paramore. Listen to it while you're reading. Please.

Also, I wrote this in Seth's POV to change things up a little.

And one more thing: I'm going to be out of town and without internet connection for the next 10 days.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty - Pressure**

It was a very cold Tuesday when Willow approached me with something to say.

I was sitting on my front porch and doing my homework, and, when I heard feet shuffling by, I looked up and just about melted. You'd think that after knowing her this long, I wouldn't react like this whenever Willow came by, but I did every single time. I just couldn't help it. Willow would have asked what cheese factory I was churning these phrases out of if I said them aloud, but love or obsession or even both were enough to describe it. She was just perfect, a goddess walking on Earth, and I still couldn't believe that she paid me any mind.

"Hi," I said to her as she climbed up the stairs and sat down next to me. I thought it was funny how she was covered in coats, considering I was about a hundred and nine degrees all the time, _but she's not a werewolf_, I reminded myself. So I didn't say anything about it.

"Hey," she said. And then: "God, it's cold."

"To you."

"Shut up."

I put my homework down, knowing that I wouldn't be able to concentrate on it while Willow was here, and turned back to her. "So what's up?"

"Heather's driving me freaking insane."

I nodded. "How far along is she, again?"

"Nine months and a day. Technically she's overdue, but I told her that she should just get over it and she shut up."

This was what I liked about Willow: she wasn't afraid to speak her mind or let anyone else know if she was annoyed. I had been like that once, too, but after my dad died, it was different. Everything was different, really. But Willow…Willow helped me out. A lot. Sometimes, when she was down in the dumps, I cheered her up, and vice versa. We balanced each other out nicely.

"Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about something," Willow began cheerfully.

"Go ahead."

"I think I'm in love with you."

I opened my mouth, and, after a second, closed it again. I couldn't think of a response. I guess you could say I'd been struck dumb.

"You're probably thinking, 'Oh God, the shit has hit the fan,' I know, right? But I was thinking, 'Well, I know he already cares a lot about me and crap, so if I tell him, it won't be all dramatic and nerve-racking like it always is in those really cheap movies.'" She smiled at me and that pull, that strange gravitational pull, shouted at me. I ignored it as best as I could and tried to come up with an understandable reply.

"That's…"

"Yeah, crazy, isn't it?" Willow always talked a lot when she was nervous. I was surprised that she had any trace of anxiety in her whatsoever. Did she think I would say the whole imprinting thing was a joke or something?

But then again, knowing Willow…

Probably.

"I don't think it's crazy, Willow."

"You don't think anything's crazy."

"I wouldn't say that's true."

How the hell was I being so calm? The most wonderful person in the universe had just confessed her deep feelings of attraction to me and I was verbally avoiding the subject. So weird. Willow thought she was crazy, but she had that turned around. I was the psycho one.

"So anyway, the way I figured it out was last night when I was up and Heather was telling me to get her cookies, I thought about you. And I was, you know, thinking about the whole imprinting thing and all that and I thought you must be getting awfully impatient with me."

"I don't--"

"And I've been feeling, like, different lately," she went on enthusiastically, ignoring me. "Not bad, but I guess…different. And then I decided that I was in love with you. So huzzah, right?"

Huzzah, indeed.

"Willow, I'm glad that you think this and all, but are you okay?" God, I sounded like a pessimist.

"Yeah. Why?"

I frowned. "You weren't at school today."

"And?"

She had a point there. Willow skipped school a lot. Nearly every day, really. When I asked her about it, she waved it off and said, "It gets boring."

I could smell something funny in the air. Something…not nasty, exactly, but definitely not appealing. I inhaled deeply and said to Willow, "Okay, where'd you get the beer from? You're underage."

"What beer?"

"I can smell it on your breath."

"But I haven't been drinking. I'm not drunk."

I hated when Willow lied to me; I could tell every time. My stomach sunk. So her lovesick confession was just a drunken lie. Crap. Way to get my hopes up.

"You know, drinking isn't good for you." Wow, I really did sound like a male Mary Sue.

"Everyone else does it."

"But if you drink too much--"

"Dude. It was, one drop, I swear. Okay?"

"It was not one drop," I protested. "If it was, I wouldn't be able to smell it like I can now. And God, it smells. How much did you drink?"

I knew she wasn't going to tell me, and I wasn't surprised when she closed her mouth tightly and stared at the ground.

"Well, good luck with a hangover in the morning," I said, turning back to my homework. I think both of us were surprised by the cold tone to my voice.

"What's your problem?" Willow barked.

"What's _your _problem?" I responded coolly.

"Oh, _my _problem? _I _have a problem? That's rich, Seth. Well, actually, I do have a problem. With you." She paused and, after taking in a deep breath, ranted, "You're too damn judgmental, alright?"

"How am I judgmental?"

"'Oh, drinking is bad for you…' You're not a nun, Seth."

"Maybe not, but I _am _worried about you, Willow."

"One drop of beer isn't going to kill me."

"I'm not saying anything is going to kill you. God, do you think I'm homicidal or something?"

Willow's eyes tightened. "That's not funny."

"I wasn't trying to be."

Neither of us said anything for a minute. I was sensing discomfort crawling into the atmosphere, and I didn't like it. I hated to argue with Willow, my life and soul and all that mushy crap.

But I wasn't going to go down without a fight here. She had to see sense.

* * *

When I was ten, my dad had a talk with me. My teacher had called him during work hours because I was arguing with a fellow classmate. There was no violence involved - honestly. It was just that he was wrong, and I was right, and he had to know that.

"Seth," Dad said, "you're very stubborn."

I didn't know what that meant, and asked for an explanation.

"It means you stand your ground. Your feet are cemented to it."

Oh.

"I think you got that from your sister. Where the heck she got it from, I don't know, because neither I nor your mother are stubborn in the least. Though we can hold a hell of a grudge, trust me."

This was weird. Why wasn't he getting mad at me? Maybe he was just trying to lead up to it and surprise me. I'd seen that done in a movie once.

"And I just have one thing to say," Dad continued.

"What?"

"I'm mighty proud of you."

* * *

"You know that I really care about you, Willow, so I can't let you keep doing this," I said to her now.

"Mary Sue," she grumbled.

My thoughts exactly.

"Look, I can do whatever I want, okay? It's my life."

"Fine, then. Get wasted out of your head and end up arrested for being underage…or passed out somewhere…or, oh, I don't know, pregnant with the kid of a man you don't even know. I don't care."

"Where's the shitty mood coming from?"

"Well, _God_, I don't know. Maybe it's because the woman - the immature girl, actually - I love has just told me she cares about me under the influence of alcohol."

"Fuck you, then."

We stood there and glared at each other. I could feel a steady ripping in my stomach. It wasn't the only one that was upset because I was arguing with Willow; I could actually feel my lip trembling a little, and was disgusted with myself. Crying wasn't right. Not for me. Crying was for girls and infants, but not me, the one keeping everything together. No tears allowed.

Willow opened and closed her mouth a few times. Then she flattened it and said in a tight voice, "Well. Well, I can see that you obviously don't want me here. Or within a ten-mile radius of you, really."

I was about to protest - because I wanted Willow with me, I needed her - but her phone rang and she turned away. She answered it and spoke in a quiet tone, obviously not wanting me to hear her conversation. When she was done, she put her phone back in her pocket and literally ran away, dashing up the street in a matter of seconds.

Not good.

After less than a millisecond's hesitation, I flew after her. I had to apologize. If I didn't, things could get horribly ugly. And I loved Willow, whether or not she was drunk. An argument would just kill me.

As expected, nobody came to the door of Willow's house when I knocked on it. The third time wasn't the charm, either. I tried to open it, but it was locked. Great.

It was then that I remembered the bobby pin Willow always kept under the plant, and I retrieved it and had opened the door quickly. Willow was leaning over Heather, who was sitting on the floor and clutching her stomach, wearing an expression of obvious agony. When Willow looked up and saw me, she growled, "Get out of here."

"I'm s--"

"I said get out!"

"I'm not going anywhere until you listen to me."

"I really don't want to see you right now. Or ever. Heather's having the baby, and I don't want to deal with you. Just go away."

"But--"

"Just go away." Willow's voice broke, and she wiped at her eyes.

"Please."


	22. Chapter Twenty One: Say

Author's Notes: I'M BACK!

This chapter is told in Willow's POV again.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty One - Say**

"You are _so _lucky," Heather said, venom dripping from her voice, "that you don't have to go through this."

From where I was sitting on the hospital bed, I watched her pace back and forth. We'd been here for nearly an hour and the doctors still said Heather wasn't dilated enough. It was my job to sit and listen to her scream in the tiny room full of white-washed walls and frightening machines. More than once she'd squeezed the hell out of my hand and nearly broken all the bones in it. Now, she gripped her stomach and bent over with a horrible groan.

"Shit!"

Heather sat on the ground and began to cry. She was practically writhing in agony, and this wasn't even the worst of it. "It huuurts," she wailed.

"I know."

"No, you don't. You've never given birth before. But you will one day, right? Don't you want kids?"

"Yeah," I replied.

"Yeah. Exactly. And when that day comes and you're having a baby, I'll be there saying 'I told you so' and you won't be able to deny me because by then, I'll have gone through the damn thing myself."

I didn't say anything, mainly because I knew Heather was ranting to herself. Partly, though, I was thinking about Seth. Once Heather had told me the baby was coming, I'd sobered up pretty quickly, and on the way to the hospital, regret had started chewing at me. The worst possible kind, the one where it's destined to drag you down and grind you in the dirt. I felt awful for being a bitch to Seth, and the only thing that was keeping me from running over to his house to apologize was the fact that Heather would probably kill me if I did.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God…" she whimpered. I felt so sorry for her. "Go get a doctor. Now. Or else I'm going to die of pain here."

"They're just gonna say the same thing they said the last time, Heather."

"I don't give a fuck!"

"Alright, alright. I'll get a doctor." I stood up and exited the room while she struggled onto the bed, taking deep breaths. Two rooms down, I found a nurse surrounded by about a hundred people. Everyone was talking to her, asking questions and saying hell knows what and making a huge racket. She looked like she desperately needed to take a break (or punch someone, at the very least) when I walked up to her.

"What? What do you want?" she barked.

From somewhere behind her, a person called, "Sheryl--"

"My sister is dying in pain." When she looked alarmed, I quickly added, "She's giving birth. She asked me to get someone."

The nurse, who I assumed was Sheryl, softened up a bit. "Her name's Heather, isn't it?"

"Yes." I was about to ask how she knew her name when it occurred to me that, since Heather was the only one currently having a baby, it was just easy for her to remember. Or something.

Sheryl turned and said to a nurse behind her, "Can you help her out? Her sister's giving birth."

"Okay," said the nurse, and she followed me into the hallway. When we entered Heather's room, I saw that my sister was sprawled out over the bed with a hand on her stomach and tears rolling down her face. The second she saw us, she sat up - perhaps a little too quickly, because Heather winced.

"Thank God," she gasped.

As the nurse examined her, I stood by Heather's side and tried my best to calm her down. "It's okay, Heather. Think of good stuff. Like the library. And…uh…" I tried to think.

"You're moving along pretty fast," said the nurse, sounding surprised. "In fact, I believe you're ready for the painkillers."

"Jesus Christ!" shrieked Heather as the nurse moved out of the room. "That took long enough!"

"I know," I said. "Um, how about you think about…er…remember that time when…you made that cake a few weeks ago, and it caught on fire?"

"Yeah. That was a total waste of time."

"Totally. And," I continued, as a doctor walked in, "think about…CJ."

There was an immediate change in the atmosphere as I said this, but I ignored it. Heather looked uneasy. Normally, we didn't talk about our brother, who'd been adopted by a married couple a few weeks ago. It was painful, and we tried our best to steer clear of it. But I decided to go ahead and jump into it, since there probably would never be another time I'd be able to bring it up without bursting into tears, anyway.

"Remember that time when we went to the beach and he found that crab? The yellow one? And tried to stick it in his mouth?"

"Yeah." Heather hesitated, and said softly after a moment, "I miss him."

"I do, too."

We stood in silence and listened to the steady rhythm of the baby's heartbeat, provided by the fetal monitor. I felt a weird rush of pride listening to that sound. It was strange, but I was just suddenly so proud of Heather and how she'd come this far without breaking down, like I would have.

* * *

Three hours had passed.

Heather and I were both exhausted by this point, but, seeing as I had the advantage of being able to take a nap, I shouldn't have complained.

Night was falling fast; it was 9:42 P.M. by now. The darkness had settled over the sky like a blanket, which was sounding extremely appealing, unlike the plastic hospital chair I'd been sitting in. My back was aching when I sat up and blinked in the direction of the room Heather was in. After a moment, I stood up and opened the door.

Heather sank into her pillow, panting. "How long has it been?" she groaned.

"Four hours," said a nearby nurse.

"When will it be over?" Heather breathed.

"It can last a long time, sweetheart. Once, we had a birth that took nearly a day and a half." After she noticed Heather's panicky expression, the nurse quickly added, "but I doubt it'll take that long for you, honey. With the pace you're at, it should be about another four or so hours."

"God."

"How are you holding up?" I asked Heather. She gave me a tired look and yawned.

"Is that enough of an answer for you?" she snapped.

"Yeah. I'm sorry, Heather. Is there anything I can do?"

"No."

"Oh." I didn't say anything for a minute, then continued, "I'm gonna go back to the house for a minute, okay? I forgot to bring food. And I'm hungry."

"Do you have any money to buy some?"

"No."

"Smooth."

"I'll be back soon, I promise."

"Okay," Heather said weakly, closing her eyes and taking in a shaky breath.

When I arrived back in La Push, Jacob was the first to greet me. He had a stack of sandwiches in one hand, one of which he offered to me. "You look starved," he said.

"Thanks," I replied. "What in the world are you doing out here in the middle of the night?"

"Couldn't sleep."

"Oh. Well, I know how _that _feels."

We walked along in silence. It really was dark; I could barely see my own two feet in front of me. In fact, I had no idea that someone other than Jared was walking in front of me until I bumped into them and landed on my butt.

"Geez, Seth," said Jacob. "Clumsy, much?"

Seth.

Seth.

_Seth._

As cliché as it may sound, I felt my palms start to sweat at the sound of his name. I mentally replayed our argument earlier that day and winced at the memory.

I couldn't see a thing. Nothing but the tanned hand reaching for me through the darkness. I grabbed onto it, and Seth helped me up. Even in the late night, I could see that his face was trouble.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"I know," I replied. "I am, too."


	23. Chapter Twenty Two: Lily White Voice

Author's Notes: There's only two chapters left after this one. I know, it's hard to believe, isn't it? It'll be hard to say goodbye to Willow and Seth.

I warn you that this chapter gets PRETTY EFFIN' STEAMY - it might be hard for you to take.

My good friend Christy introduced me to the song "Thunder" by Boys Like Girls. It reminded me so much of Willow and Seth that I officially decided it is THEIR song. Thank you, Christy!

Oh, and speaking of Christy…this chapter's for you, girlfriend. (:

So here you go…enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Two - Lily White Voice**

The baby's name was Caroline.

Caroline Willow Davidson.

She was born seven pounds, three ounces and was far by the most beautiful, most perfect little human I'd ever been lucky enough to meet. It was nearly midnight when she finally came into the world, and after a long cry, Heather had gone to sleep. Now, I stood with a hand spread across the side of the bassinet my niece slept in, feeling a lump rise in my throat.

From somewhere behind me, Seth rubbed my back. I just about jumped a foot in the air - I'd forgotten about him. "Congratulations," he said with a grin. I smiled back. "You're an aunt."

"Yeah. I still can't believe it. She looks just like Heather, doesn't she?"

"Exactly like Heather."

I looked again at Caroline and smiled. One of her tiny arms was sprawled out beside her, and her chest moved up and down evenly. A thin string of silver drool laid on her rosy cheek. A small tuft of brown hair sat atop her head, and when she'd opened her eyes for the first time earlier, I'd seen that they were blue. She was so beautiful, so small. I loved her already, and she hadn't even been around for one hour.

I yawned loudly, causing Seth to say, "You seem tired."

"I am. Very. I guess I'll just go home."

"Do you want me to stay with you?"

"What?"

"I mean, the house is going to be empty," Seth pointed out. "It'll probably feel really weird with no one there."

"Oh, sure, go ahead." I turned back to Caroline and said to her quietly, even though I knew she was asleep and couldn't hear me, "Good night."

Then we were gone.

Outside, it was raining, of course, but for once I didn't care. Tonight, everything out of the ordinary was accepted. At this thought, I looked over at Seth, who was strolling along oh so casually. I smiled; forgiveness was never an easy thing, and though I didn't deserve it, he'd given it to me. Good old Seth.

A blast of cold air greeted us when we stepped into our house, and I shivered. The kitchen window was open. I frowned as I snapped it shut; I could have sworn I'd closed it. Weird.

The second I was upstairs, I stumbled into my room and onto my bed. I was more exhausted than I'd realized. My head hit the pillow, and Seth laid down next to me.

This was what I liked about Seth: he knew what I was comfortable with and what I wasn't comfortable with and he didn't even have to ask.

I felt a weight fall across my shoulder. When I looked to my left, I saw that Seth had an arm flung across me and was already asleep. For the second time that night, I felt a strange kind of halt in my emotions, seeing him like that. This was the wonderful, forgiving Seth I'd fallen in love with.

And he was mine. (As creepy and possessive as that might sound.)

I turned to face him and buried my face in his chest with a satisfied sigh. His skin was so warm. This was the kind of place I belonged, in the peace and quiet with Seth's arms around me.

I thought about what I'd said to him mere hours ago - my pleas for forgiveness. I'd been so surprised when he accepted my apology; I still didn't think I deserved it. But he said all was okay, that I was forgiven.

And I truly did love Seth. About a month ago, long before I'd gotten drunk, I'd started to suspect it. Every day, I looked forward to seeing Seth; the first thing I did when I woke up was call him. I always hated saying goodbye, as cheesy and cliché as that might sound. Now, I'd never fallen in love before so I had no idea what it was like, but I was pretty sure it was something like this.

I curled against Seth and, in the warmth of him, faded into sleep.

* * *

It was finally, _finally_ Friday - the day Heather and Caroline would come home.

Heather was having a fit in the hospital room she'd been stuck in for the last three days. "Did we get everything?" she asked again and again. "Is there anything I'm forgetting?"

"No, Heather," I said for the fiftieth time. "We didn't bring that much, remember? Just clothes."

"Yeah," Heather said absentmindedly while Caroline slept in her arms, "but I know there's something…"

"There isn't."

"Okay, okay," she continued, still ignoring me, "I think that's everything."

"It is, Heather. Now can we go?" The ever-present smell of medicine was starting to give me a headache. I rearranged her bag of clothes so that it would fit more comfortably on my shoulder and watched Caroline squirm awake with a muffled cry.

"Yeah, I guess so." Heather smiled down at Caroline and gave her back a little pat, walking out of the room. I followed her, and immediately my head cleared. Thank God.

Seth was outside, waiting for us in his car. He smiled when we walked outside, cheerful as always. I slid into the passenger seat next to him while Heather and Caroline occupied the backseat. Seth drove out of the parking lot and onto the road - very carefully, because of course it was raining - while saying to Caroline, "Welcome home." That was Seth for you, always just so affectionate. It was hard to believe that there were people as nice as him left in the world.

We pulled up in front of my house as the rain increased. "Okay, we're going to have to make a run for it," she said. And when I didn't respond: "Willow?"

"I'm not going on the house."

"What? Why? Where _are _you going, then?"

"Seth's house. We've got a big movie night planned. If that's okay with you," I added quickly.

"It's fine. So you're spending the night at his house?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Okay, then. 'Bye." Heather picked up her bag of clothes, held Caroline securely against her chest, and ran towards the house in a flash. The car door slammed shut behind her. I watched to make sure she got inside safely and nodded at Seth, who drove off towards his house.

Leah was eating a brownie and reading _Gone With the Wind _when we walked inside. She was looking a bit better each day - surprisingly enough, she and Emily were learning to get along. I knew she was still upset over Sam - something I couldn't blame her for - but these days there was a bit of color in her cheeks, a truth in her smile. Without looking up, she said, "Be sure you don't trip over the carpet, Willow."

I looked down; at my feet was the part of the Clearwater house leading into the living room that switched from hardwood to carpet. I thought it was weird that she knew where I was standing, but whatever. "I won't," I said, stepping over it carefully.

Seth went to raid the pantry for snacks while I slunk into the living room and sat on the couch. I glanced up at the clock; it was already nearly six PM. Man, where had the day gone?

"Okay," said Seth a minute later, coming out of the kitchen with his arms full of popcorn and cookies, "I think this will be enough to last us about a week."

"Not with your insane appetite," I teased him as he sat down next to me, punching him lightly in the arm.

"Shut it."

"So what are we asking?" I asked. He picked up the DVD remote and pressed 'Play.'

"James Bond."

"Awesome."

As our James Bond Movie Marathon (that's what Seth called it) continued, the night wore on. It started to get dark outside, and soon the entire sky was quilted in black. I was getting tired quickly - it had been a rough day at school - and somewhere around midnight, I admitted defeat and slunk upstairs. Seth followed.

Even though it was still raining hard, the nearly-full moon filtered through gaps in the dark clouds whenever it could. I looked out of Seth's bedroom window and saw Quil and Embry a few houses down, bombing water balloons at each other. I shook my head and smiled; I loved the uniqueness of this place.

"I," I declared, "am tired."

"So am I," Seth replied, yawning loudly.

"You're always tired," I said.

"Hey, being a werewolf is tough." I wanted to laugh at his casual use of the word, but I didn't. "You're always really hot and beating up people and stuff."

"Beating up people?" I said, raising an eyebrow. "Such violence."

Seth threw himself down on the bed and yawned again. I laid down next to him, nearly getting knocked off as he stretched. "Hey," I protested.

"Sorry." Seth kissed me on the forehead apologetically.

"It's okay."

We didn't say anything for a moment. His breathing became slow and rhythmic, and for a minute I thought he'd fallen asleep. But when I turned to face him, I saw that he was staring at the ceiling.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked.

"I dunno."

"You don't know what you're thinking about?"

"No."

"Hmm."

"What?" he asked.

"Oh, nothing."

I put my face against Seth's neck and wrapped an arm around him. He turned to me and smiled. "I love you," he stated.

"I love you, too. As horribly cheesy as that may sound."

Seth chuckled. Then he kissed me, a quick peck, and said, "Well, _I _don't think it sounds cheesy, personally."

"Oh, really?" I grinned and kissed him back. "Good, because I don't either."

There was something intimate about laying there, with Seth's skin so warm and the rain pounding outside and the late hour. I probably should have guessed what happened next, but I didn't.

It was a nice surprise, though.

When Seth kissed me again, I knew something was different. I could feel it in the way he put a hand on my back, bringing me closer - in the way his breath had more of a rough, ragged edge to it. There was something more to the way that his other hand moved up my shirt and settled on my stomach. A chill swept through my body; this was…

Insane.

He was close, but I wanted - no, needed - him to be closer. Knowing what my action could result in - and secretly yearning for the result -, I hooked my legs around his waist and pulled him against me, still not satisfied when his burning skin rubbed against my own. He needed to be closer. Closer. Much closer.

Both of us sat up at the same moment; I guess, as they say, great minds think alike. Seth wound a hand in my hair and kissed my jaw, sending another shiver up my spine. "Oh, my God," I gasped, my breath wild and erratic. "Seth."

"Shh," he muttered, in a voice so deep and amazing and oh my God, oh my _God_, this was unreal, "I'm right here."

His lips were at my neck now, and I was about to go insane. I was all but ripping my shirt off, but Seth chuckled and kissed my earlobe. "Not so fast," he breathed.

The freaking little tease. He was trying to kill me.

I wrapped my arms around him and wordlessly pulled him closer, burying my face into his neck. This was amazing, the stuff of dreams - I couldn't believe it was really happening. My skin burned under his touch and I gripped his back desperately, yearning for more. Holy crap. I'd known that this was going to happen sooner or later, but I hadn't expected it to be half this incredible.

Seth pushed me against the pillows, and I completely gave myself into him as the night wore on.

* * *

That night, I slept with Seth for the first time. And I'll admit that even though it was incredibly awkward, it was the most special, most beautiful night of my life. Seth was so gentle with me, so kind I thought I felt my heart snap in half.

After it was over, I rested my head against his chest and looked out of the window. The moon illuminated the soft darkness of Seth's room. A few minutes passed, and the clouds shifted.

Now the moon shone on Seth and my hands, which were entwined.

I smiled.

* * *

Author's Notes: I seriously considered making this a bit dirtier and switching the rating of the story to M, but decided not to. Believe me, it was hard to write a seductive chapter and still keep it PG 13. I think I failed on that front.

Hope you liked this chapter! Please review!


	24. Chapter Twenty Three: Awkward

Author's Notes: So this is how it goes. (Well I, I would have never known…hehe, Christy. ;D)

A few people have asked me for a M-Rated version of that last chapter. Send me a message or leave a review if you'd like to read it, but know what you're getting yourself into - by rated M, I mean ages sixteen-ish and up. I'll send it to anyone who wants it by tomorrow (I'm not done writing it yet, haha.)

This chapter is kind of…blegh. I never know what to do with the second-to-last chapter. So it's kind of a filler, but hopefully you'll like it.

Next chapter is the final one, guys! Get ready!

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Three - Awkward**

When I woke up, I was crammed over to one side of the bed while Seth was pretty much sprawled all over the place. I pushed him over a little bit and tried to go back to sleep. Unfortunately, the sun was attacking my eyes, so I grudgingly opened them again.

It took about half a second for me to remember what had happened last night, and another second to realize that I didn't have any clothes on. I blushed, which may or may not have been ridiculous considering last night. I looked around the room, searching for my clothes, and saw no trace of them.

Crap.

Trying to keep as much of the sheet on me as possible, I searched around under the bed. Finding nothing, I sat up again and spotted my bra sitting on the floor nearby. Good. Only problem was, it was over by Seth's side of the bed.

I awkwardly tried to stand up and keep the sheet on me without waking up Seth. This was impossible, so I just gave up and poked Seth's shoulder, blushing up a storm.

Seth opened his eyes and looked at me sleepily. "Oh, h-hi," he said through a yawn, smiling.

"Hey," I said.

"What're you blushing about?" he teased.

My cheeks flushed an even deeper red, and I mumbled, biting my lip, "well…er…I, uh…I don't have any clothes on…"

"You have nothing to be ashamed of, Willow. You're beautiful."

I smiled shyly. "Um, oh, thanks. Er…Seth…could you hand me my bra?" Why was I so embarrassed about this?

Seth turned in the direction I was pointing. "Oh, yeah, of course." He picked it up and handed to me. I put it on as discreetly and quickly as possible, trying to take the heat away from my face. _It's okay, it's just Seth,_ I told myself. _I mean, you _did _have sex with him last night - you can't get much more than that. And anyway, he's already seen you…like this. There's no reason to be embarrassed._

The door banged open, and Leah shouted from the hallway, "Okay, lovebirds, get up. It's nearly two in the afternoon and Mom is pretty sure you're both dead."

"Leah!" said Seth, while I started blushing again. "God, get out!"

"What? Oh, I know. It's kinda hard not to." She nodded to Seth's pants, which were sitting on the floor, and I just wanted to die. "Anyway, get dressed. Your lunch is going into hibernation."

Leah left the room, closing the door behind her, while I worked on melting into a puddle like that witch from the Wizard of Oz. Seth shook his head. "Ignore her," he said.

It was impossible to do that, but I tried.

We both got dressed (it took me a good ten minutes to find all of my clothes) and trooped downstairs. Sue joined us while we sat down to eat lunch and prattled on and on about her brother-in-law, who had apparently gotten some huge promotion. I tried my best to not blush or look guilty, but I don't think it worked. I had the feeling that she could look right through me.

I was right.

"So," began Sue after a minute, "Leah told me what happened between you two last night."

I literally dropped my fork, and Seth said, "God." He turned around to face Leah, who was sitting in the living room, while I put a hand over my face and tried to become invisible.

_This. Is so. Not. Happening._

"Willow, don't be embarrassed," said Sue. Leah and Seth were arguing, but I was too mortified to listen in. "I'm not mad at you."

"Can I go crawl in a hole and die now?" I moaned.

"Honestly, it's okay," Sue went on. "I completely understand. I mean, you two are both young adults - I can't expect you to keep your hands off of each other."

Ugh.

"Mom, don't," said Seth suddenly. "Please."

"What?" asked Sue. "It's perfectly natural. Nothing to be embarrassed about. Just as long as you don't get pregnant on me, Willow, it's fine."

"So Willow," began Seth loudly, "what do you want to do today? I was thinking we could go down to the beach, because the water's not too cold yet."

"Sounds good to me," I said, grateful for the change of subject.

* * *

A couple of embarrassing moments later - during which Sue insisted that sex was okay, as long as I didn't pop out any babies (well, not in so many words, but something like that) - Seth and I walked towards the beach. He kept trying to tone down my level of mortification, but was failing miserably at it - I couldn't stop blushing or cringing.

"It's okay," said Seth again. "Look, I know that you're embarrassed, and you have perfect reason to be, but let's just forget about it, alright? My mom is…like that. She was just messing with you, I promise."

"But still," I replied. "It's - God. I mean, you're a guy so you don't have to bother with this kind of stuff, but 'don't get pregnant' - I mean, honestly, it's just kind of -- I know where she's coming from, but -- God --"

I stuttered myself into silence. By that time, we had gotten to the beach. I waded into the waters while Seth put his shoes on the sand. Suddenly, a pair of arms circled around my waist and something brushed my neck. I screamed and jumped a foot in the air. Seth laughed.

"Scaredy cat," he teased.

"You freaked the hell out of me! I thought you were some psycho trying to attack me or something." I worked on breathing again.

"I'm sorry," said Seth.

"Yeah, you better be." I turned around and smacked his arm lightly. "Or else."

"Or else?"

"Or else I'll…I'll…I don't know. I'll do something bad."

"Ooh, I'm so scared," Seth teased.

"Shut up."

--

Caroline yawned as I walked into the house. She was sitting in her car seat and curled up against a stuffed animal. I sat down next to her and smiled. "Hey," I said.

Heather walked out of the kitchen with a bottle of water in one hand. When she saw me, she jumped a little, startled, and said, "Oh, hi, Willow. When did you get in?"

"Like…two seconds ago."

"Well, how was last night?"

I was about to respond with the true answer, but I decided not to. "It was cool. We watched a lot of James Bond and stuff."

"Sounds pretty nice. What else did you do?"

I blinked at her, confused. Why was she asking this? Did she have some sort of unknown sex radar? Or maybe I was just being paranoid. That was more likely. "Uh, we ate food…? Why?"

"No reason. You just seem different," Heather replied innocently.

Okay, then. I stood up and walked towards the bathroom, but was interrupted when Heather grabbed my shoulder and exclaimed, "Aha!"

"What?"

She brushed my hair away from my neck and smirked. "You've got this little grey mark right here. Looks like a hickey to me."

* * *

Author's Notes: …

HAHAHA.

Poor Willow.

But honestly.

HAHAHA IN YOUR FACE, WILLOW.

I couldn't help myself.


	25. Chapter Twenty Four: Thunder

Author's Notes: Long overdue.

Can I just say…thank you. To all of you.

This has been…unreal.

I can't believe this is over. I just…I can't. I cried. So. Freaking. Hard while I was writing this. I miss Seth and Willow already. And I'm sorry to say there won't be a sequel…I thought about it, but some stories are hurt by their sequels, and I think this would be one of them. Anyway, I don't know how I would continue this.

(Also, be on the lookout for a new fanfiction by me! It should be released within this week. It involves that Laurent we all love to hate, yay!)

Oh, and Eullyne, I do keep my promises. So don't be worried about this chapter. (;

I love you all. Listen to this song while you're reading. You won't regret it, trust me.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Four - Thunder**

_Today is a winding road that's taking me to places that I didn't want to go  
Whoa (whoa, whoa, whoa)  
Today in the blink of an eye I'm holding on to something and I do not know why  
I tried_

_I tried to read between the lines  
I tried to look in your eyes  
I want a simple explanation  
For what I'm feeling inside  
I gotta find a way out  
Maybe there's a way out_

_Your voice was the soundtrack of my summer  
Do you know you're unlike any other?  
You'll always be my thunder, and I said  
Your eyes are the brightest of all the colors  
I don't wanna ever love another  
You'll always be my thunder_

_So bring on the rain  
And bring on the thunder_

Thunder by Boys Like Girls

* * *

_A few months later…_

It was summer again in La Push. And, of course, impossibly hot.

The sun's rays seemed to melt and distort under one's dreary gaze; they dripped red and yellow onto a grey sky. Right now, it had just stopped raining, and the smell of wet dirt filled the air. That, and cologne that Paul had sprayed on excessively for his big date tonight. How in the world he'd gotten a girl I had no idea, but I had to admit that I was happy for him. He'd always been kind of a loner, so it was good to know that someone out there cared.

Good God, that sounded ridiculously cheesy. Like...God. Since when had I been such a huge sap?

I sat in front of Sam's house and tied my shoes. The boys were playing football a few feet in front of me, excluding Paul, who was driving off. Heather cradled Caroline and chatted on the phone to her friend Marnie from the library. She hadn't been working ever since Caroline was born, but her friends were constantly filtering in and out of the house or taking the both of them to lunch somewhere. It was good to know that she'd cheered up slightly; the first few months with Caroline had been awful, with her saying stuff about why did she have to be the one to get raped and pregnant - my only explanation was a pitiful "I don't know, that's just what happens." But she'd overcome her postpartum depression (at least, I guess that was what it was) and was now pretty much okay.

I finished with my shoes and looked up. Seth was attempting to take the football from Jared, but Jared threw it to Embry. They were running around so fast - I guessed this was the werewolf thing they had or whatever, and was glad that Heather was busy looking at Caroline instead of them - I could barely see what was going on. And then someone was getting tackled, the football was flying, Seth was catching it - ugh, I couldn't keep up.

"Yeah, I know," said Heather to Marnie. She paused as Marnie responded and laughed. I hadn't seen her do that in a while. "I know! But it's none of their business anyway."

Sam exited the house and got in his car with a list of groceries in his hand. A delicious smell wafted through the air before the door snapped shut behind him and I took in a deep breath. Emily's cooking. I'd looked at her cookbook more than once and followed its directions, but ended up with crap each time. I couldn't understand how she did it.

Heather hung up on Marnie and turned to me. "I saw you steal a granola bar from my purse a little while ago," she said. I opened my mouth to protest, but she continued, "No, don't even try to deny it."

"Ummph."

"Pfft," she responded.

"I feel sick," I said. "Kinda…er. My stomach hurts."

"Do you think you're pregnant?" asked Heather, patting Caroline's back as she coughed.

"No."

"How do you know?"

"I don't _know_, but I'm pretty sure I'm not. I mean…I don't think I am. And anyway, I took a test and it said negative. And I know those things can be wrong, but I just…I don't think I'm pregnant."

"Hmm." Caroline wrapped a tiny hand around Heather's finger, and Heather smiled, kissing her forehead. "Well, that was the same thing I thought, Willow. And look at what happened." She nodded her daughter.

"Just…eh. I dunno. I'm hungry," I said, trying to change the subject.

It didn't work.

"Oho, you're _hungry_!" said Heather with a teasing wink.

"God, Heather, people can be hungry when they're not pregnant!" I practically shouted. I knew she was just messing with me, but I was annoyed. I wished she would just shut up.

There was a sudden, deafening silence. I turned my head to the boys. They were all staring at me, frozen in action; Jared had the football in his hands, Quil looked like he was about to jump on Embry, and Seth, who had his arms in the air, looked positively shocked.

"Uh," I said.

"I wasn't saying that you're pregnant," Heather went on indignantly, but slightly quieter this time, as she knew the boys were watching.

"I'm going to go see if Emily needs help with anything," I said, even though I knew she could manage by herself. I stood up, turned on my heel, and went into the house. Emily was cooking shrimp, and a basket of fresh bread sat smack in the middle of the dining table.

"Can I help you with something?" I asked. "Anything?"

She didn't look up, but I saw her shake her head. "No thanks." After a moment, she continued, "I wish Sam would get back. I need more stuff for this."

"Yeah," I said.

Well. This was awkward. The front door was open, and I was suddenly aware of the fact that everyone could see me through it. I wandered into the hallway, and looked at the pictures they had on their walls. There wasn't much; just some magazine clipping about a book and a few pictures from their wedding.

"So what's this I hear about you--" began a voice from behind me.

"I am not pregnant, Seth," I said, turning around to face him. And even though it's incredibly sappy of me to say so, I thought he looked as handsome as ever, with his windswept hair all over the place.

"Alright, alright. I believe you," he replied.

I walked up to him and put my hands on his shoulders. Even though he was impossibly tall, I'd grown a lot, and we were only a few inches apart. "You'd better," I teased him.

Seth rolled his eyes, but smiled. Then he took something out of his pocket and put it in my own. "Don't look at that thing until later, okay? When you're alone. And when you do, my response will be, 'Yes, that is what you think it is.'"

That sounded awfully suspicious, but whatever. "Okay," I said.

"Promise?"

"Promise. Is this like an early birthday present or a prank or…what?"

He smiled. "You'll see."

Sam walked through the door just then with a bag of groceries in one hand. Emily smiled at him and took the bag out of his hands.

"So I don't know about you, but I'm hungry," I said.

"So am I," said Seth. "I wish Emily would hurry up already."

From somewhere in the kitchen, Emily's voice shouted, "I heard that!"

* * *

The phone was ringing.

The phone was ringing, and, looking at the caller ID, I was more than a little pissed off. I picked up the phone and practically shouted, "What the hell do you want this time, Sean?"

"That is no way to talk to your father," he snapped back. Hypocrite. "And I do not want anything, I just want to know how my daughters are, so--"

"Oh, that reminds me. You're a grandfather. But anyway, what's your get-richer-quick scheme now?"

He took in a deep breath. There was a brief, shocked silence. "I'm a grandfather?" he croaked.

"Yeah. Heather had a little girl a few months ago."

"She…oh, my God. She had a kid?"

"No shit, Sherlock. How many times do I have to tell you? But I'm not going to talk about that since it's nothing you should be digging your nose in anyway. Why are you calling again?"

He, it seemed, was too surprised to get pissed at my rudeness. For once. A minute or so passed, and he began, "Well, Willow, I wanted to talk about your mother's life insurance--"

I slammed the phone down. And, probably for the better, unplugged it.

"Who was that?" Heather asked as I walked into the living room. She was wiping off Caroline's shirt, while Caroline herself squirmed around and smiled a toothless grin.

"Sean. He said his house blew up and his wife left him for another man and his kids joined the circus. And I laughed in his face."

I went upstairs, leaving behind an understandably confused Heather, and looked at the clock on my bedroom wall. It was nearly midnight. I hadn't had a really big day - unless you counted being accused of being pregnant and eating dinner at Sam and Emily's house as big - but I was already tired. All I did was crawl out of my capris, which were getting to be a bit too small, and flop down on the bed.

It was then that I remembered Seth had put something in my pocket.

I wanted to leave it for the morning, but knowing me, I'd probably forget about it. I sat up and turned on the light, blinking at the sudden brightness. My eyes were still getting used to it as I reached for my capris and felt around in one of the pockets, fingers freezing on a small, circular object.

"…_my response will be, 'Yes, that is what you think it is.'"_

No. Fucking. Way.

"Where are you going?" Heather yelled at me as I ran out of the house, having just thrown on my capris.

"Seth's house!" I shouted back.

I wanted to do something really girly and unlike myself, such as jumping up and down or screaming or throwing a fit or something. I was nearly doing all three by the time I arrived at Seth's house and pounded on the door with one hand, holding the thin, silver engagement ring with the other.

Seth answered and nearly had to cover his ears when I started shrieking my head off. "Seth! Oh my God! I can't believe it!" I flung myself into his arms as Sue cast us a confused look from the kitchen. "You -- oh my God, this is so like…I mean, when I reached into my pocket, I was like 'What the shit? There is no way!' and then I remembered what you said about it being what I would think it was and - and anyway, I totally say yes --"

"You did _not_," said a shocked Sue.

"I did," replied Seth, grinning as he kissed my forehead.

A small explosion went off somewhere. Sue let out a shriek and ran over to engulf us in her arms. "No way! Oh, you're growing up too fast! Slow down already!" She looked like she might cry when she finally let us go about five minutes later.

I just smiled. I honestly couldn't have been in a single better place in the world. Here I was, surrounded by people who loved me - especially Seth. My fiancé.

_Fiancé._

What a wonderful word.

* * *

Planning a wedding is hard. Especially in the summer, when you're constantly fanning yourself or having heat stroke or sweating. And everything is worse when you're seventeen, still in high school, and have people telling you every now and then that you're too young just so you can bitch at them.

This happened more than once. And I knew I was young, and I knew that I'd only met Seth a year ago, but I'd made my decision and was sticking to it. So screw you, middle-aged woman who noticed my ring one day while I was at the store and scoffed at it, wasting ten minutes of my time on asking me if I was pregnant and kids these days and blah blah blah. That was her problem, not mine.

I'd found a nice white dress with a ruffle skirt and that fell just above my knee (I was actually going to pick out some neon-colored number just because I could, but eventually decided against it) and had the list of who would be attending. There was still a month to go until the big day and I felt like throwing something every five minutes - it was crazy. But it was going to be worth it, I knew. So I just put up with it all.

One day, I was walking along the street when I noticed a pitiful rosebush that seemed to have drowned in recent rain off to the side. It reminded me of my first day in La Push for some reason. And then there was La Push alone, I thought, after picking up the pace again. So much had happened here, I realized. I'd gained a best friend, fallen in love with him…lost my virginity…gotten engaged…and was soon to be married right on its shores.

Damn. This place really was something else.

For some reason, I'd been emotional a hell of a lot lately, and now it happened again. A rush of memories bombarded me - arriving here in the moving van, meeting Seth, kissing him for the first time…it was strange to mentally replay all of that, as though I'd turned back the clock and found myself in those situations again. And I don't know why, but my upcoming marriage and relationship with Seth had never seemed as real as they did in that moment.

"Hey," said a familiar voice from behind me.

I turned around to see Rochelle, the girl who'd borrowed my phone so long ago, grinning at me. I smiled back. Some way or another, we'd become good friends. When I wasn't at Seth's house, I was at hers, eating French candies her butler gave us and listening to her tell stories of New York, where she'd moved from. When I asked her why she'd come here, of all the places, she said her mother was recovering from a nasty divorce and wanted to get as far away from her ex-husband as possible.

One obvious thing about Rochelle was that her mother was insanely rich, but something about her you could only know if you got close to her was that she didn't flaunt it all over the place. "Too cliché," Rochelle said when I brought it up. "And it's just stupid. I mean, I might have more money than that old guy with the parakeets down the street, but who cares? I don't. Honestly."

"Hi, Rochelle," I said to her now. "What's up?"

"Mom's being a bitch."

I nodded; considering all that I had went through with Ciara, I couldn't have understood more. And, just like my late mother and I, Rochelle and her mom were constantly arguing. "What's it about this time?" I asked.

"She found a pack of cigarettes under my bed. Hypocrite. Like she didn't start smoking when she was fourteen. But anyway, how are you? You look kind of…teary-eyed."

"I'm fine. Just…just pre-wedding emotional crap. You know."

"Yeah. I think I do." Rochelle flipped her dark hair over her shoulder and squinted at something behind me. "I'm always here if you need me, okay?"

"Okay. Thanks."

"Hey! Look! There's Jacob!" Rochelle squealed, completely ignoring me, which she surprisingly usually didn't do. I rolled my eyes; she'd been crushing on him ever since she arrived here. I turned around and sure enough, there was Jacob, stepping onto his front porch. "I should go say hi," she said, barreling past me.

Honestly.

"She's got no chance," said Seth as he appeared around the side of Jacob's house, wrapping his arms around me and kissing the top of my head.

I sighed. "I know. What's up with Jacob, anyway? He always seems so…down in the dumps. Is he depressed or something?"

Seth took some time to answer that one. When he did, he lowered his voice, even though Rochelle was babbling away at Jacob so loudly she wouldn't have heard him even if he shouted. "You could say that. About…I think it's been a year and a half…ago, Jacob fell in love with a girl named Bella. The problem was that Bella was in love with a vampire named Edward."

Vampire?

Seth was still talking, oblivious to my shock. "So she went off with Edward and got married to him…and Jacob's been pretty messed up ever since. I understand where he's coming from…I mean, if I was him…but I'm sure that, wherever Bella is, she's in good hands. I met Edward. We were friends. He's a good guy."

"You met Edward?"

"Yeah."

"But…I thought that you guys hated each other…the whole vampire and werewolf thing, I mean." Rochelle was walking down the street now, out of earshot, with Jacob sitting on his porch and staring at a chunk of wood on the ground. I guessed that her attempts to hit on him had failed.

My feet were starting to hurt, so Seth and I sat down on the grass while I shot him a confused look. "That's true. We…don't get along with them, really. But Edward was different. I…well, this vampire came along to try and kill Bella, and I helped Edward get rid of her sidekick. Once you do that…once you unite like that…it's hard to hate each other."

"Wait. Wait. You…you beat up a vampire?" I whispered - probably from the surprise.

"Yeah," said Seth again.

"Why didn't you ever tell me this?" I demanded.

"You never asked."

"How am I supposed to ask about this if I never have had any idea that you kicked vampire ass?"

Seth laughed. "I guess I didn't consider that bit."

"Well, tell me about these…vampires. The one that came after Bella and the one that was helping her. What were their names?"

"Victoria and Riley."

"How did you beat them up?"

"Well, first of all…"

* * *

"I'd like to propose a toast to a totally kick ass girl by the name of Willow right about now," said Macy, one of my friends from school, holding up her (obviously spiked) soda can and attempting to keep a straight face. That lasted for about two seconds, and then she started giggling all over the place, more than a little tipsy by this point. "To--to Willow," she gasped, clutching at her stomach.

Rochelle, Kim, and Aubrey, another girl from school, rolled their eyes at her. And then they said to me with identical smiles, lifting their sprites (nobody had been able to get alcohol except for Macy, who refused to share), "To Willow."

That had to be the fifth toast of the evening, but I didn't complain. I didn't mind the attention for tonight - but I guess that's what happens during your bachelorette party. We'd decided to throw it at Rochelle's house, considering that we would probably wake up Caroline if we threw it at mine. Caroline had the flu, so Heather had stayed behind to help her instead of hiring a babysitter and going here. She apologized about a hundred times beforehand, but I told her that it was okay and she eventually stopped.

Macy, finally regaining her composure, reached over to lay one hand on Rochelle's stereo and crank the volume up. Bouncy, pop beats filled the room. I tried not to wince, but apparently I did: Macy doubled over laughing again after looking at my expression. "Oh my God," she said. "Your face is _priceless _right now. Honestly. Just go look in the mirror."

"Speaking of mirrors," said Aubrey, "I do believe it's time for your makeover."

Normally I wouldn't have put up with it, but the night before my wedding definitely wasn't supposed to be normal. And anyway, even I would admit that I was supposed to look good on my wedding day, so I just smiled as Kim started digging through Rochelle's enormous cosmetics box.

"Okay, I think curly hair would work well for you," said Rochelle. "But tonight is all just practice, you know - so we'll know what to do when tomorrow comes and won't have to waste too long on making you up."

"This feels weird," I said as Macy put curlers in my hair.

"Oh, I know how that is," said Rochelle. "I used to be _such _a tomboy - I didn't start wearing makeup until I was like…fifteen. It was insane; took me forever to get used to. And even though you look beautiful without any makeup on, it's, you know, mandatory on your wedding day. Don't worry about it. We won't make you look like a psycho or anything. Less is more, you know."

I just nodded.

Some time later, after having various beauty products slapped on my face, I tried to make myself comfortable while Macy and Kim did my nails. Rochelle said (she'd been surprisingly quiet for a little while, and I'd almost forgotten about her being there), "So how do you feel, Willow?"

"Uh. What do you mean?"

"About tomorrow. Getting married. That's huge. I mean…if I were you, I'd be freaking out and crap."

"Who says I'm not?" I replied, but I couldn't help but smile.

"You don't look like it to me."

"Trust me, I am," I told her. "It's insane. I never thought that I'd be getting married at seventeen, you know…and now I am to the best guy on the face of the universe and it's tomorrow afternoon and I think everything's ready but I bet it's not and…and…yeah. I'm definitely not relaxed."

"Try to be," said Kim. "After all, what could go wrong?"

"Everything," I moaned, as it all caught up to me.

"That's the spirit!" said Kim, slapping me on the back so hard it hurt.

"Ow! What the hell was that for?" I barked.

"Trying to knock this pessimism out of you."

"Well _God_, you don't have to be so violent."

"Done!" Aubrey and Macy sang at the same time. Rochelle told me to stand up and I did as she dragged one of her many full-body mirrors over. I scrutinized my reflection carefully, barely even realizing my mouth was open. I looked so…different. But in a good way, in the very best way. I never thought I'd say it, but I looked great.

"Give me that," I heard Rochelle say, and I watched her in the mirror as she took a ponytail holder from Aubrey. She put my hair up, adjusting a few curls so that they hung loosely around my face, and smiled at her handiwork. "You look beautiful," she said to me.

The girls behind me nodded in agreement, and I felt a sudden need to go around and hug them all. Instead, I just wrapped my arms around Rochelle as a wave of emotion washed over me. "Thank you," I whispered, tears clogging up my voice. "Thank you so much."

* * *

It was time.

I was about to faint. Or die. Or both. It was time.

"Oh, my God," Heather whispered again and again and again. "Oh, my _God_. Holy shit, this is really happening. Oh my God…Willow. I can't believe it."

"I know," I said. I could hardly stand. Somebody was about to need to call an ambulance. But there was no going back now - I was in my dress, in my shoes, had my hair and makeup on…and everyone was waiting. For me. A crowd of people were sitting down at the beach and waiting for me.

There was a knock on the door. "Are you done yet?" Embry called. I laughed a little as Heather answered with,

"Yes, you buffoon. Now stop hurrying us along and get your ass in the car."

"Okay, God. No need to be grouchy." Embry's footsteps scurried away.

"You can do this," said Heather, putting a hand on my shoulder. Her voice was thick with tears. "Just stay calm."

"Okay," I said.

We stood there for a moment, looking at each other in silence, before Heather turned on her heel and went through the door. I quickly followed her.

We climbed into Embry's car while my intestines wrapped themselves into a knot, and Embry drove off. It wasn't long before he stopped, and we stepped outside. There was sand beneath my shoes and I stared at it, taking a deep breath. Then I looked up at Embry again. _I can do this._

"You okay?" he asked as he looped his arm around mine.

"Yeah. Fine. Let's do this shit," I said in attempt to lighten the mood, staring straight ahead and trying to remind myself to breathe. Embry laughed, and we started walking.

_Embry coughed something under his breath, and the youngest-seeming one, the one with the weird expression, stepped forward shyly, but somehow with determination. He had sandy blonde hair that stuck up all over the place, but still looked nice, I guess. In a way. Quil and Embry exchanged a grin behind his back, and Quil laughed again._

_"Seth Clearwater," the blonde said (still with that expression), holding out his hand like Quil. I shook it and he ran his thumb over the back of my hand, seeming to feel the soft skin there. His hand felt warm. Almost too warm._

_"I'm Willow," I said again. "Good to meet you."_

_"Willow," he repeated, saying my name as though it was sacred. He was still holding my hand, and for a wild moment I thought he was going to kiss it. But after a moment, he just dropped his hand, letting it fall loosely to his side._

Considering the fact that I'd never gotten married before, I didn't expect the memories. I gasped a little for reasons I still cannot figure out, and Embry tightened his arm around mine reassuringly.

We were at the aisle now, and I felt about twenty pairs of eyes on me. I was only searching for one, however - Seth's. When I found him standing next to the preacher, looking beyond incredible in a simple grey tuxedo, I smiled. He grinned right back.

"_And the thing with imprinting is that…some people never find their imprint, but others…well, they do. And…I've found mine." Seth coughed._

_I immediately felt a surge of jealously. "You have? Who is she?" I demanded, and realized how petty I sounded. But still._

"_Well…" Sam stood up and paced around the room, stealing glances at me every now and then._

_The suspense was driving me insane._

"_Go ahead and say it," I told him._

"_I know, I know, but I'm trying to think up my response." Eventually, Seth took a seat next to me and breathed in a deep breath. He took my hand in his and stared deeply into my eyes as he replied with…_

"_It's you."_

It all happened so fast; one second, Embry was at my side, and the next he was scurrying off as dead silence filled the air. I nearly fell over, needing stability, reassurance, something, but Seth squeezed my hand and calmed my dancing nerves.

I barely even heard the vows the preacher was reciting, I was so wound-up; I just nodded along and said "I do" whenever he prompted. One thing I do remember, however, was when the preacher said this:

"I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."

I was vaguely aware of noise somewhere - cheering, I guess - as Seth smiled at me again and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me close, before gently brushing his lips against my own.

* * *

**THE END**


End file.
